m 
i 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

CASE 


B 


Class 


MR.   THOREAU'S  WRITINGS. 


Walden. 

1  vol.     16mo.     $1.25. 

A  Week  on  the  Concord  and  Merrimack 
Rivers. 

1  vol.  '  12mo.     $1.50. 

Excursions. 

1  vol.     16mo.     $1.25. 

The  Maine  Woods. 

1  vol.     16mo.     $1.25. 


TICKNOR   AND   FIELDS,   Publishers. 


THE 


MAINE    WOODS 


BY 


HENRY    D.    THOREAU, 

AUTHOR  OF    "A   WEEK   ON   THE   CONCORD   AND    MERRI1IACK   RIVERS,' 
"  WALDEN,"    "  EXCURSIONS,"    ETC.,   ETC 


BOSTON: 
TICKNOR     AND     FIELDS. 

1864. 


CASE 
8 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

TICKNOR     AND     FIELDS, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS: 

WELCH,   BIGELOW,   AND  COMPANY, 

CAMBRIDGE. 


THE  first  of  the  papers  following  was  pub- 
lished in  u  The  Union  Magazine,"  (New  York,) 
in  1848 ;  the  second,  "  Chesuncook,"  came  out 
in  the  "Atlantic  Monthly,"  in  1858;  and  the 
last  is  now  for  the  first  time  printed. 


7495 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 
KTAADN    1 

CHESUNCOOK 85 

THE   ALLEGASH  AND   EAST  BRANCH  161 


APPENDIX. 

I.   TREES 307 

IE.   FLOWERS  AND  SHRUBS      .....  308 
IH.   LIST  or  PLANTS  .         .         .        .         .         .        .312 

IV.   LIST  OF  BIRDS 321 

V.    QUADRUPEDS 322 

VI.    OUTFIT  FOR  AN  EXCURSION     ....  322 

VII.  A  LIST  OF  INDIAN  WORDS          ....  324 


THE  MAINE  WOODS. 


KTAAD  N. 

ON  the  31st  of  August,  1846, 1  left  Concord  in  Mas- 
sachusetts for  Bangor  and  the  backwoods  of  Maine,  by 
way  of  the  railroad  and  steamboat,  intending  to  accom- 
pany a  relative  of  mine  engaged  in  the  lumber-trade 
in  Bangor,  as  far  as  a  dam  on  the  west  branch  of  the 
Penobscot,  in  which  property  he  was  interested.  From 
this  place,  which  is  about  one  hundred  miles  by  the 
river  above  Bangor,  thirty  miles  from  the  Houlton  mili- 
tary road,  and  five  miles  beyond  the  last  log-hut,  I  pro- 
posed to  make  excursions  to  Mount  Ktaadn,  the  second 
highest  mountain  in  New  England,  about  thirty  miles 
distant,  and  to  some  of  the  lakes  of  the  Penobscot,  either 
alone  or  with  such  company  as  I  might  pick  up  there. 
It  is  unusual  to  find  a  camp  so  far  in  the  woods  at  that 
season,  when  lumbering  operations  have  ceased,  and  I 
was  glad  to  avail  myself  of  the  circumstance  of  a  gang 
of  men  being  employed  there  at  that  time  in  repairing 
the  injuries  caused  by  the  great  freshet  in  the  spring. 
The  mountain  may  be  approached  more  easily  and  di- 
rectly on  horseback  and  on  foot  from  the  northeast  side, 
by  the  Aroostook  road,  and  the  Wassataquoik  River ;  but 
in  that  case  you  see  much  less  of  the  wilderness,  none  of 

1  A 


2  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

the  glorious  river  and  lake  scenery,  and  have  no  experi- 
ence of  the  batteau  and  the  boatman's  life.  I  was  fortu- 
nate also  in  the  season  of  the  year,  for  in  the  summer 
myriads  of  black  flies,  mosquitoes,  and  midges,  or,  as 
tfce  Indians  call  them,  "  no-see-ems,"  make  travelling  in 
the  woods  almost  impossible  ;  but  now  their  reign  was 
nearly  over. 

Ktaadn,  whose  name  is  an  Indian  word  signifying 
highest  land,  was  first  ascended  by  white  men  in  1804. 
It  was  visited  by  Professor  J.  W.  Bailey  of  West  Point 
in  1836  ;  by  Dr.  Charles  T.  Jackson,  the  State  Geolo- 
gist, in  1837  ;  and  by  two  young  men  from  Boston  in 
1845.  All  these  have  given  accounts  of  their  expedi- 
tions. Since  I  was  there,  two  or  three  other  parties 
have  made  the  excursion,  and  told  their  stories. .  Besides 
these,  very  few,  even  among  backwoodsmen  and  hunters, 
have  ever  climbed  it,  and  it  will  be  a  long  time  before 
the  tide  of  fashionable  travel  sets  that  way.  The  moun- 
.tainous  region  of  the  State  of  Maine  stretches  from  near 
the  White  Mountains,  northeasterly  one  hundred  and 
sixty  miles,  to  the  head  of  the  Aroostook  River,  and  is 
about  sixty  miles  wide.  The  wild  or  unsettled  portion 
is  far  more  extensive.  So  that  some  hours  only  of  travel 
in  this  direction  will  carry  the  curious  to  the  verge  of 
a  primitive  forest,  more  interesting,  perhaps,  on  all  ac- 
counts, than  they  would  reach  by  going  a  thousand  miles 
westward. 

The  next  forenoon,  Tuesday,  September  1st,  I  started 
with  my  companion  in  a  buggy  from  Bangor  for  "  up 
river,"  expecting  to  be  overtaken  the  next  day  night  at 
Mattawamkeag  Point,  some  sixty  miles  off,  by  two  more 
Bangoreans,  who  had  decided  to  join  us  in  a  trip  to  the 
mountain.  We  had  each  a  knapsack  or  bag  filled  with 


KTAADN.  3 

such  clothing  and  articles  as  were  indispensable,  and  my 
companion  carried  his  gun. 

Within  a  dozen  miles  of  Bangor  we  passed  through 
the  villages  of  Stillwater  and  Oldtown,  built  at  the  falls 
of  the  Penobscot,  which  furnish  the  principal  power  by 
which  the  Maine  woods  are  converted  into  lumber.  The 
mills  are  built  directly  over  and  across  the  river.  Here 
is  a  close  jam,  a  hard  rub,  at  all  seasons ;  and  then  the 
once  green  tree,  long  since  white,  I  need  not  say  as 
the  driven  snow,  but  as  a  driven  log,  becomes  lumber 
merely.  Here  your  inch,  your  two  and  your  three  inch 
stuff  begin  to  be,  and  Mr.  Sawyer  marks  off  those  spaces 
which  decide  the  destiny  of  so  many  prostrate  forests. 
Through  this  steel  riddle,  more  or  less  coarse,  is  the 
arrowy  Maine  forest,  from  Ktaadn  and  Chesuncook,  and 
the  head-waters  of  the  St.  John,  relentlessly  sifted,  till  it 
comes  out  boards,  clapboards,  laths,  and  shingles  such 
as  the  wind  can  take,  still  perchance  to  be  slit  and  slit 
again,  till  men  get  a  size  that  will  suit.  Think  how  stood 
the  white-pine  tree  on  the  shore  of  Chesuncook,  its 
branches  soughing  with  the  four  winds,  and  every  indi- 
vidual needle  trembling  in  the  sunlight,  —  think  how  it 
stands  with  it  now,  —  sold,  perchance,  to  the  New  Eng- 
land 'Friction-Match  Company!  There  were  in  1837, 
as  I  read,  two  hundred  and  fifty  saw-mills  on  the  Penob- 
scot and  its  tributaries  above  Bangor,  the  greater  part  of 
them  in  this  immediate  neighborhood,  and  they  sawed 
two  hundred  millions  of  feet  of  boards  annually.  To 
this  is  to  be  added  the  lumber  of  the  Kennebec,  Andros- 
coggin,  Saco,  Passamaquoddy,  and  other  streams.  No 
wonder  that  we  hear  so  often  of  vessels  which  are  be- 
calmed off  our  coast,  being  surrounded  a  week  at  a  time 
by  floating  lumber  from  the  Maine  woods.  The  mission 


THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

of  men  there  seems  to  be,  like  so  many  busy  demons,  to 
drive  the  forest  all  out  of  the  country,  from  every  soli- 
tary beaver-swamp  and  mountain-side,  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. 

At  Oldtown  we  walked  into  a  batteau-manufactory. 
The  making  of  batteaux  is  quite  a  business  here  for  the 
supply  of  the  Penobscot  River.  We  examined  some  on 
the  stocks  They  are  light  and  shapely  vessels,  calcu- 
lated for  rapid  and  rocky  streams,  and  to  be  carried  over 
long  portages  on  men's  shoulders,  from  twenty  to  thirty 
feet  long,  and  only  four  or  four  and  a  half  wide,  sharp 
at  both  ends  like  a  canoe,  though  broadest  forward 
on  the  bottom,  and  reaching  seven  or  eight  feet  over  the 
water,  in  order  that  they  may  slip  over  rocks  as  gently 
as  possible.  They  are  made  very  slight,  only  two  boards 
to  a  side,  commonly  secured  to  a  few  light  maple  or 
other  hard-wood  knees,  but  inward  are  of  the  clearest 
and  widest  white-pine  stuff,  of  which  there  is  a  great 
waste  on  account  of  their  form,  for  the  bottom  is  left  per- 
fectly flat,  not  only  from  side  to  side,  but  from  end  to 
end.  Sometimes  they  become  "hogging"  even,  after 
long  use,  and  the  boatmen  then  turn  them  over  and 
straighten  them  by  a  weight  at  each  end.  They  told  us 
that  one  wore  out  in  two  years,  or  often  in  a  single  trip, 
on  the  rocks,  and  sold  for  from  fourteen  to  sixteen  dol- 
lars. There  was  something  refreshing  and  wildly  musi- 
cal to  my  ears  in  the  very  name  of  the  white  man's 
canoe,  reminding  me  of  Charlevoix  and  Canadian  Voya- 
geurs.  The  batteau  is  a  sort  of  mongrel  between  the 
canoe  and  the  boat,  a  fur-trader's  boat. 

The  ferry  here  took  us  past  the  Indian  island.  As 
we  left  the  shore,  I  observed  a  short,  shabby,  wasjier- 
wojnan-looking  Indian  —  they  commonly  have  the  woe- 


KTAADN.  5 

begone  look  of  the  girl  that  cried  for  spilt  milk — just 
from  "  up  river  "  —  land  on  the  Oldtown  side  near  a  gro- 
cery, and,  drawing  up  his  canoe,  take  out  a  bundle  of 
skins  in  one  hand,  and  an  empty  keg  or  half-barrel  in 
the  other,  and  scramble  up  the  bank  with  them.  This 
picture  will  do  to  put  before  the  Indian's  history,  that  is, 
the  history  of  his  extinction.  In  1837  there  were  three 
hundred  and  sixty-two  souls  left  of  this  tribe.  The 
island  seemed  deserted  to-day,  yet  I  observed  some  new 
houses  among  the  weather-stained  ones,  as  if  the  tribe 
had  still  a  design  upon  life ;  but  generally  they  have  a 
very  shabby,  forlorn,  and  cheerless  look,  being  all  back 
side  and  woodshed,  not  homesteads,  even  Indian  home- 
steads, but  instead  of  home  or  abroad-steads,  for  their  life 
is  domi  aut  militia,  at  home  or  at  war,  or  now  rather 
venatus,  that  is,  a  hunting,  and  most  of  the  latter.  The 
church  is  the  only  trim-looking  building,  but  that  is  not 
Abenaki,  that  was  Home's  doings.  Good  Canadian  it 
may  be,  but  it  is  poor  Indian.  These  were  once  a  pow- 
erful tribe.  Politics  are  all  the  rage  with  them  now.  I 
even  thought  that  a  row  of  wigwams,  with  a  dance  of 
powwows,  and  a  prisoner  tortured  at  the  stake,  would 
be  more  respectable  than  this. 

We  landed  in  Milford,  and  rode  along  on  the  east  side 
of  the  Penobscot,  having  a  more  or  less  constant  view 
of  the  river,  and  the  Indian  islands  in  it,  for  they  retain 
all  the  islands  as  far  up  as  Nickatow,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
East  Branch.  They  are  generally  well-timbered,  and 
are  said  to  be  better  soil  than  the  neighboring  shores. 
The  river  seemed  shallow  and  rocky,  and  interrupted  by 
rapids,  rippling  and  gleaming  in  the  sun.  We  paused  a 
moment  to  see  a  fish-hawk  dive  for  a  fish  down  straight 
as  an  arrow,  from  a  great  height,  but  he  missed  his  prey 


6  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

this  time.  It  was  the  Houlton  road  on  which  we  were 
now  travelling,  over  which  some  troops  were  marched 
once  towards  Mars'  Hill,  though  not  to  Mars'  fold,  as  it 
proved.  It  is  the  main,  almost  the  only,  road  in  these 
parts,  as  straight  and  well  made,  and  kept  in  as  good  re- 
pair, as  almost  any  you  will  find  anywhere.  Everywhere 
we  saw  signs  of  the  great  freshet,  — -  this  house  standing 
awry,  and  that  where  it  was  not  founded,  but  where  it 
was  found,  at  any  rate,  the  next  day ;  and  that  other  with 
a  water-logged  look,  as  if  it  were  still  airing  and  drying 
its  basement,  and  logs  with  everybody's  marks  upon 
them,  and  sometimes  the  marks  of  their  having  served 
as  bridges,  strewn  along  the  road.  "We  crossed  the  Sunk- 
haze,  a  summery  Indian  name,  the  Olemmon,  Passadum- 
keag,  and  other  streams,  which  make  a  greater  show  on 
the  map  than  they  now  did  on  the  road.  At  Passadum- 
keag  we  found  anythmg  but  what  the  name  implies,  — 
earnest  politicians,  to  wit, — white  ones,  I  mean, — on  the 
alert,  to  know  how  the  election  was  likely  to  go ;  men 
who  talked  rapidly,  with  subdued  voice,  and  a  sort  of 
factitious  earnestness,  you  could  not  help  believing,  hard- 
ly waiting  for  an  introduction,  one  on  each  side  of  your 
buggy,  endeavoring  to  say  much  in  little,  for  they  see 
you  hold  the  whip  impatiently,  but  always  saying  little 
in  much.  Caucuses  they  have  had,  it  seems,  and  cau- 
cuses they  are  to  have  again,  —  victory  and  defeat. 
Somebody  may  be  elected,  somebody  may  not.  One 
man,  a  total  stranger,  who  stood  by  our  carriage  in  the 
dusk,  actually  frightened  the  horse  with  his  asseverations, 
growing  more  solemnly  positive  as  there  was  less  in  him 
to  be  positive  about.  So  Passadumkeag  did  not  look  on 
the  map.  At  sundown,  leaving  the  river-road  awhile 
for  shortness,  we  went  by  way  of  Enfield,  where  we 


KTAADN.  .       7 

stopped  for  the  night.  This,  like  most  of  the  localities 
bearing  names  on  this  road,  was  a  place  to  name,  which, 
in  the  midst  of  the  unnamed  and  unincorporated  wilder- 
ness, was  to  make  a  distinction  without  a  difference,  it 
seemed  to  me.  Here,  however,  I  noticed  quite  an  or- 
chard of  healthy  and  well-grown  apple-trees,  in  a  bear- 
ing state,  it  being  the  oldest  settler's  house  in  this  region, 
but  all  natural  fruit,  and  comparatively  worthless  for 
want  of  a  grafter.  And  BO  it  is  generally,  lower  down 
the  river.  It  would  be  a  good  speculation,  as  well  as 
a  favor  conferred  on  the  settlers,  for  a  Massachusetts 
boy  to  go  down  there  with  a  trunk  full  of  choice  scions, 
and  his  grafting  apparatus,  in  the  spring. 

The  next  morning  we  drove  along  through  a  high  and 
hilly  country,  in  view  of  Cold-Stream  Pond,  a  beautiful 
lake  four  or  five  miles  long,  and  came  into  the  Houlton 
road  again,  here  called  the  military  road,  at  Lincoln, 
forty-five  miles  from  Bangor,  where  there  is  quite  a  vil- 
lage for  this  country,  —  the  principal  one  above  Old- 
town.  Learning  that  there  were  several  wigwams  here, 
on  one  of  the  Indian  islands,  we  left  our  horse  and  wagon, 
and  walked  through  the  forest  half  a  mile  to  the  river, 
to  procure  a  guide  to  the  mountain.  It  was  not  till 
after  considerable  search  that  we  discovered  their  habi- 
tations, —  small  huts,  in  a  retired  place,  where  the 
scenery  was  unusually  soft  and  beautiful,  and  the  shore 
skirted  with  pleasant  meadows  and  graceful  elms.  We 
paddled  ourselves  across  to  the  island-side  in  a  canoe, 
which  we  found  on  the  shore.  Near  where  we  landed 
sat  an  Indian  girl  ten  or  twelve  years  old,  on  a  rock  in 
the  water,  in  the  sun,  washing,  and  humming  or  moan- 
ing a  song  meanwhile.  It  was  an  aboriginal  strain.  A 
salmon-spear,  made  wholly  of  wood,  lay  on  the  shore, 


8  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

such  as  they  might  have  used  before  white  men  came. 
It  had  an  elastic  piece  of  wood  fastened  to  one  side  of 
its  point,  which  slipped  over  and  closed  upon  the  fish, 
somewhat  like  the  contrivance  for  holding  a  bucket  at 
the  end  of  a  well-pole.  As  we  walked  up  to  the  near- 
est house,  we  were  met  by  a  sally  of  a  dozen  wolfish- 
looking  dogs,  which  may  have  been  lineal  descendants 
from  the  ancient  Indian  dogs,  which  the  first  voyageurs 
describe  as  "  their  wolves."  I  suppose  they  were.  The 
occupant  soon  appeared,  with  a  long  pole  in  his  hand, 
with  which  he  beat  off  the  dogs,  while  he  parleyed  with 
us.  A  stalwart,  but  dull  and  greasy-looking  fellow,  who 
told  us,  in  his  sluggish  way,  in  answer  to  our  questions, 
as  if  it  were  the  first  serious  business  he  had  to  do  that 
day,  that  there  were  Indians  going  "  up  river  "  —  he  and 
one  other — to-day,  before  noon.  And  who  was  the 
other?  Louis  Neptune,  who  lives  in  the  next  house. 
Well,  let  us  go  over  and  see  Louis  together.  The  same 
doggish  reception,  and  Louis  Neptune  makes  his  appear- 
ance,—  a  small,  wiry  man,  with  puckered  and  wrinkled 
face,  yet  he  seemed  the  chief  man  of  the  two ;  the  same, 
as  I  remembered,  who  had  accompanied  Jackson  to  the 
mountain  in  '37.  The  same  questions  were  put  to  Louis, 
and  the  same  information  obtained,  while  the  other  In- 
dian stood  by.  It  appeared  that  they  were  going  to 
start  by  noon,  with  two  canoes,  to  go  up  to  Chesuncook 
to  hunt  moose,  —  to  be  gone  a  month.  "  Well,  Louis, 
suppose  you  get  to  the  Point  [to  the  Five  Islands,  just 
below  Mattawamkeag],  to  camp,  we  walk  on  up  the 
West  Branch  to-morrow,  —  four  of  us,  —  and  wait  for 
you  at  the  dam,  or  this  side.  You  overtake  us  to-mor- 
row or  next  day,  and  take  us  into  your  canoes.  We 
stop  for  you,  you  stop  for  us.  We  pay  you  for  your 


KTAADN.  9 

trouble."  "Ye!"  replied  Louis,  "may  be  you  carry 
some  provision  for  all,  —  some  pork,  —  some  bread, — 
and  so  pay."  He  said,  "  Me  sure  get  some  moose " ; 
and  when  I  asked  if  he  thought  Pomola  would  let  us 
go  up,  he  answered  that  we  must  plant  one  bottle  of 
rum  on  the  top ;  he  had  planted  good  many  ;  and  when 
he  looked  again,  the  rum  was  all  gone.  He  had  been 
up  two  or  three  times:  he  had  planted  letter,  —  Eng- 
lish, German,  French,  &c.  These  men  were  slightly 
clad  in  shirt  and  pantaloons,  like  laborers  with  us  in 
warm  weather.  They  did  not  invite  us  into  their  houses, 
but  met  us  outside.  So  we  left  the  Indians,  thinking 
ourselves  lucky  to  have  secured  such  guides  and  com- 
panions. 

There  were  very  few  houses  along  the  road,  yet  they 
did  not  altogether  fail,  as  if  the  law  by  which  men  are 
dispersed  over  the  globe  were  a  very  stringent  one,  and 
not  to  be  resisted  with  impunity  or  for  slight  reasons. 
There  were  even  the  germs  of  one  or  two  villages  just 
beginning  to  expand.  The  beauty  of  the  road  itself  -was 
remarkable.  The  various  evergreens,  many  of  which 
are  rare  with  jis^rsrjifilijcaje^and^  beautiful  specimens  of 
the  larch,  arbor-vitse,  ball-spruce,  and  fir-balsam,  from  a. 
fewTnches  to  many  feet  in'  height,  —  lined  its  sides,  in 
50ffie"places  like  a  long,  front  yard,  springing  up  from  the 
smooth  grass-plots  which  uninterruptedly_border  it,  and 
are^made  fertilejby  its  wash ;  while  it  was  but  a  step.- 
orTeltEeFTiand  to  the  grim,  untrodden  wilderness,  whose" 
tangled  labyrinth" "of  living,  fallen,  and  decaying  trees 
only  the  deer  "and  moose,  the  bear  and  wolf?  can  easily 
penetrate.  More  perfect  specimens  than  any  front-yard 
plot  can  show,  grew  there  to  grace  the  passage  of  the 
Houlton  teams. 

1* 


10  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

About  noon  we  reached  the  Mattawamkeag,  fifty-six 
miles  from  Bangor  by  the  way  we  had  come,  and  put  up 
at  a  frequented  house  still  on  the  Houlton  road,  where 
the  Houlton  stage  stops.  Here  was  a  substantial  cov- 
ered bridge  over  the  Mattawamkeag,  built,  I  think  they 
said,  some  seventeen  years  before.  We  had  dinner,  — 
where,  by  the  way,  and  even  at  breakfast,  as  well  as 
supper,  at  the  public-houses  on  this  road,  the  front 
rank  is  composed  of  various  kinds  of  "  sweet  cakes,"  in 
a  continuous  line  from  one  end  of  the  table  to  the  other. 
I  think  I  may  safely  say  that  there  was  a  row  of  ten 
or  a  dozen  plates  of  this  kind  set  before  us  two  here. 
To  account  for  which,  they  say  that,  when  the  lumberers 
come  out  of  the  woods,  they  have  a  craving  for  cakes 
and  pies,  and  such  sweet  things,  which  there  are  almost 
unknown,  and  this  is  the  supply  to  satisfy  that  demand. 
The  supply  is  always  equal  to  the  demand,  and  these 
hungry  men  think  a  good  deal  of  getting  their  money's 
worth.  No  doubt  the  balance  of  victuals  is  restored 
by  the  time  they  reach  Bangor,  —  Mattawamkeag  takes 
off  the  raw  edge.  Well,  over  this  front  rank,  I  say, 
you,  coming  from  the  "  sweet  cake  "  side,  with  a  cheap 
philosophic  indifference  though  it  may  be,  have  to  as- 
sault what  there  is  behind,  which  I  do  not  by  any  means 
mean  to  insinuate  is  insufficient  in  quantity  or  quality  to 
supply  that  other  demand,  of  men,  not  from  the  woods, 
but  from  the  towns,  for  venison  and  strong  country  fare. 
After  dinner  we  strolled  down  to  the  "Point,"  formed 
by  the  junction  of  the  two  rivers,  which  is  said  to  be 
the  scene  of  an  ancient  battle  between  the  Eastern  In- 
dians and  the  Mohawks,  and  searched  there  carefully 
for  relics,  though  the  men  at  the  bar-room  had  never 
heard  of  such  things ;  but  we  found  only  some  flakes 


KTAADN.  11 

of  arrow-head  stone,  some  points  of  arrow-heads,  one 
small  leaden  bullet,  and  some  colored  beads,  the  last  to 
be  referred,  perhaps,  to  early  fur-trader  days.  The  Mat- 
tawamkeag,  though  wide,  was  a  mere  river's  bed,  full 
of  rocks  and  shallows  at  this  time,  so  that  you  could 
cross  it  almost  dry-shod  in  boots;  and  I  could  hardly 
believe  my  companion,  when  he  told  me  that  he  had 
been  fifty  or  sixty  miles  up  it  in  a  batteau,  through 
distant  and  still  uncut  forests.  A  batteau  could  hardly 
find  a  harbor  now  at  its  mouth.  Deer  and  carribou,  or 
reindeer,  are  taken  here  in  the  winter,  in  sight  of  the 
house. 

Before  our  companions  arrived,  we  rode  on  up  the 
Houlton  road  seven  miles,  to  Molunkus,  where  the 
Aroostook  road  comes  into  it,  and  where  there  is  a  spa- 
cious public  house  in  the  woods,  called  the  **  Molunkus 
House,"  kept  by  one  Libbey,  which  looked  as  if  it  had 
its  hall  for  dancing  and  for  military  drills.  There  was 
no  other  evidence  of  man  but  this  huge  shingle  palace 
in  this  part  of  the  world ;  but  sometimes  even  this  is 
filled  with  travellers.  I  looked  off  the  piazza  round  the 
corner  of  the  house  up  the  Aroostook  road,  on  which 
there  was  no  clearing  in  sight.  There  was  a  man  just 
adventuring  upon  it  this  evening  in  a  rude,  original, 
what  you  may  call  Aroostook  wagon,  —  a  mere  seat, 
with  a  wagon  swung  under  it,  a  few  bags  on  it,  and  a 
dog  asleep  to  watch  them.  He  offered  to  carry  a  mes- 
sage for  us  to  anybody  in  that  country,  cheerfully.  I 
suspect  that,  if  you  should  go  to  the  end  of  the  world, 
you  would  find  somebody  there  going  farther,  as  if  just 
starting  for  home  at  sundown,  and  having  a  last  word 
before  he  drove  off.  Here,  too,  was  a  small  trader, 
whom  I  did  not  see  at  first,  who  kept  a  store  —  but  no 


12  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

great  store,  certainly  —  in  a  small  box  over  the  way, 
behind  the  Molunkus  sign-post.  It  looked  like  the 
balance-box  of  a  patent  hay-scales.  As  for  his  house, 
we  could  only  conjecture  where  that  was ;  he  may  have 
been  a  boarder  -in  the  Molunkus  House.  I  saw  him 
standing  in  his  shop-door,  —  his  shop  was  so  small,  that, 
if  a  traveller  should  make  demonstrations  of  entering 
in,  he  would  have  to  go  out  by  the  back  way,  and  confer 
with  his  customer  through  a  window,  about  his  goods 
in  the  cellar,  or,  more  probably,  bespoken,  and  yet  on 
the  way.  I  should  have  gone  in,  for  I  felt  a  real  im- 
pulse to  trade,  if  I  had  not  stopped  to  consider  what 
would  become  of  him.  The  day  before,  we  had  walked 
into  a  shop,  over  against  an  inn  where  we  stopped,  the 
puny  beginning  of  trade,  which  would  grow  at  last  into 
a  firm  copartnership  in  the  future  town  or  city,  —  indeed, 
it  was  already  "  Somebody  &  Co.,"  I  forget  who.  The 
woman  came  forward  from  the  penetralia  of  the  at- 
tached house,  for  "  Somebody  &  Co."  was  in  the  burning, 
and  she  sold  us  percussion-caps,  canales  and  smooth, 
and  knew  their  prices  and  qualities,  and  which  the  hunt- 
ers preferred.  Here  was  a  little  of  everything  in  a 
small  compass  to  satisfy  the  wants  and  the  ambition .  of 
the  woods,  —  a  stock  selected  with  what  pains  and  care, 
and  brought  home  in  the  wagon-box,  or  a  corner  of  the 
Houlton  team ;  but  there  seemed  to  me,  as  usual,  a  pre- 
ponderance of  children's  toys,  —  dogs  to  bark,  and  cats  to 
mew,  and  trumpets  to  blow,  where  natives  there  hardly 
^are  yet.  As  if  a  child,  born  into  the  Maine  woods,  among. 
/  the  pine-cones  and  cedar-berries,  could  not  do  without 
such  a  sugar-man,  or  skipping-jack,  as  the  young  Roths- 
child has. 

I  think  that  there  was  not  more  than  one  house  on 


KTAADN.        .  13 

the  road  to  Molunkus,  or  for  seven  miles.  At  that  place 
we  got  over  the  fence  into  a  new  field,  planted  with 
potatoes,  where  the  logs  were  still  burning  between  the 
hills ;  and,  pulling  up  the  vines,  found  good-sized  pota- 
toes, nearly  ripe,  growing  like  weeds,  and  turnips  mixed 
with  them.  The  mode  of  clearing  and  planting  is,  to 
fell  the  trees,  and  burn  once  what  will  burn,  then  cut 
them  up  into  suitable  lengths,  roll  into  heaps,  and  burn 
again ;  then,  with  a  hoe,  plant  potatoes  where  you  can 
come  at  the  ground  between  the  stumps  and  charred 
logs  ;  for  a  first  crop  the  ashes  sufficing  for  manure,  and 
no  hoeing  being  necessary  the  first  year.  In  the  fall, 
cut,  roll,  and  burn  again,  and  so  on,  till  the  land  is 
cleared ;  and  soon  it  is  ready  for  grain,  and  to  be  laid 
down.  Let  those  talk  of  poverty  and  hard  times  who 
will  in  the  towns  and  cities ;  cannot  the  emigrant  who 
can  pay  his  fare  to  New  York  or  Boston  pay  five  dol- 
lars more  to  get  here,  —  I  paid  three,  all  told,  for  my 
passage  from  Boston  to  Bangor,  two  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  —  and  be  as  rich  as  he  pleases,  where -land  vir- 
tually costs  nothing,  and  houses  only  the  labor  of  build- 
ing, and  he  may  begin  life  as  Adam  did  ?  If  he  will 
still  remember  the  distinction  of  poor  and  rich,  let  him 
bespeak  him  a  narrower  house  forthwith. 

When  we  returned  to  the  Mattawamkeag,  the  Houlton 
stage  had  already  put  up  there ;  and  a  Province  man 
was  betraying  his  greenness  to  the  Yankees  by  his  ques- 
tions. Why  Province  money  won't  pass  here  at  par, 
when  States'  money  is  good  at  Frederickton,  —  though 
this,  perhaps,  was  sensible  enough.  From  what  I  saw 
then,  it  appears  that  the  Province  man  was  now  the 
only  real  Jonathan,  or  raw  country  bumpkin,  left  so  far 
behind  by  his  enterprising  neighbors  that  he  did  n't  know 


14  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

enough  to  put  a  question  to  them.     No  people  can  long\ 
continue  provincial  in  character  who  have  the  propensity 
for  politics  and  whittling,  and  rapid  travelling,  which  the 
Yankees  have,  and  who  are  leaving  the  mother  country 
behind  in  the  variety  of  their  notions  and  inventions. 
The  possession  and  exercise  of  practical  talent  merely 
are  a  sure  and  rapid  means  of  intellectual  culture  and  / 
independence. 

The  last  edition  of  Greenleaf's  Map  of  Maine  hung 
on  the  wall  here,  and,  as  we  had  no  pocket-map,  we  re- 
solved to  trace  a  map  of  the  lake  country.  So,  dipping 
a  wad  of  tow  into  the  lamp,  we  oiled  a  sheet  of  paper 
on  the  oiled  table-cloth,  and,  in  good  faith,  traced  what 
we  afterwards  ascertained  to  be  a  labyrinth  of  errors, 
carefully  following  the  outlines  of  the  imaginary  lakes 
which  the  map  contains.  The  Map  of  the  Public  Lands 
of  Maine  and  Massachusetts  is  the  only  one  I  have  seen 
that  at  all  deserves  the  name.  It  was  while  we  were 
engaged  in  this  operation  that  our  companions  arrived. 
They  had"  seen  the  Indians'  fire  on  the  Five  Islands,  and 
so  we  concluded  that  all  was  right. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  had  mounted  our  packs, 
and  prepared  for  a  tramp  up  the  West  Branch,  my  com- 
panion having  turned  his  horse  out  to  pasture  for  a  week 
or  ten  days,  thinking  that  a  bite  of  fresh  grass,  and  a 
taste  of  running  water,  would  do  him  as  much  good  as 
backwoods  fare  and  new  country  influences  his  master. 
Leaping  over  a  fence,  we  began  to  follow  an  obscure 
trail  up  the  northern  bank  of  the  Penobscot.  There 
was  now  no  road  further,  the  river  being  the  only  high- 
way, and  but  half  a  dozen  log-huts  confined  to  its  banks, 
to  be  met  with  for  thirty  miles.  On  either  hand,  and 
beyond,  was  a  wholly  uninhabited  wilderness,  stretching 


KTAADN.  15 

to  Canada.  Neither  horse  nor  cow,  nor  vehicle  of  any 
kind,  had  ever  passed  over  this  ground ;  the  cattle,  and 
the  few  bulky  articles  which  the  loggers  use,  being  got 
up  in  the  winter  on  the  ice,  and  down  again  before  it 
breaks  up.  The  evergreen  woods  had  a  decidedly  sweet 
and  bracing  fragrance ;  the  air  was  a  sort  of  diet-drink, 
and  we  walked  on  buoyantly  in  Indian  file,  stretching 
our  legs.  Occasionally  there  was  a  small  opening  on" 
the  bank,  made  for  the  purpose  of  log-rolling,  where  we 
got  a  sight  of  the  river,  —  always  a  rocky  and  rippling] 
stream.  The  roar  of  the  rapids,  the  note  of  a  whistler^ 
duck  on  the  river,  of  the  jay  and  chickadee  around  us,] 
and  of  the  pigeon-woodpecker  in  the  openings,  were  th< 
sounds  that  we  heard.  This  was  what  you  might  call 
a  bran-new  country  ;  the  only  roads  were  of  Nature's 
making,  and  the  few  houses  were  camps.  Here,  then, 
one  could  no  longer  accuse  institutions  and  society,  but 
must  front  the  true  source  of  evil. 

There  are  three  classes  of  inhabitants  who  either  fre- 
quent or  inhabit  the  country  which  we  had  now  entered; — 
first,  the  loggers,  who,  for  a  part  of  the  year,  the  winter 
and  spring,  are  far  the  most  numerous,  but  in  the  sum- 
mer, except  a  few  explorers  for  timber,  completely  desert 
it ;  second,  the  few  settlers  I  have  named,  the  only  per- 
manent inhabitants,  who  li ve  on  the  verge  of  it,  and  help 
raise  supplies  for  the  former ;  third,  the  hunters,  mostly 
Indians,  who  range  over  it  in  their  season. 

At  the  end  of  three  miles,  we  came  to  the  Mattaseunk 
stream  and  mill,  where  there  was  even  a  rude  wooden 
railroad  running  down  to  the  Penobscot,  the  last  railroad 
we  were  to  see.  We  crossed  one  tract,  on  the  bank  of 
the  river,  of  more  than  a  hundred  acres  of  heavy  timber, 
which  had  just  been  felled  and  burnt  over,  and  was  still 


16  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

smoking.  Our  trail  lay  through  the  midst  of  it,  and  wag 
wellnigh  blotted  out.  The  trees  lay  at  full  length,  four 
or  five  feet  deep,  and  crossing  each  other  in  all  directions, 
all  black  as  charcoal,  but  perfectly  sound  within,  still 
good  for  fuel  or  for  timber ;  soon  they  would  be  cut  into 
lengths  and  burnt  again.  Here  were  thousands  of  cords, 
enough  to  keep  the  poor  of  Boston  and  New  York  amply 
warm  for  a  winter,  which  only  cumbered  the  ground  and 
were  in  the  settler's  way.  And  the  whole  of  that  solid 
and  interminable  forest  is  doomed  to  be  gradually  de- 
voured thus  by  fire,  like  shavings,  and  no  man  be  warmed 
by  it.  At  Crocker's  log-hut,  at  the  mouth  of  Salmon 
River,  seven  miles  from  the  Point,  one  of  the  party  com- 
menced distributing  a  store  of  small  cent  picture-books 
among  the  children,  to  teach  them  to  read,  and  also 
newspapers,  more  or  less  recent,  among  the  parents,  than 
which  nothing  can  be  more  acceptable  to  a  backwoods 
people.  It  was  really  an  important  item  in  our  outfit, 
and,  at  times,  the  only  currehcy  that  would  circulate.  I 
walked  through  Salmon  River  with  my  shoes  on,  it  being 
low  water,  but  not  without  wetting  my  feet.  A  few  mile§ 
farther  we  came  to  "  Marm  Howardfs7J~at  the  end  of  an 
extensive  clearing,  where  there  were  two  or  three  log- 
huts  in  sight  at  once,  one  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river,  and  a  few  graves,  even  surrounded  by  a  wooden 
paling,  where  already  the  rude  forefathers  of  a  hamlet 
lie,  and  a  thousand  years  hence,  perchance,  some  poet 
will  write  his  "  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard."  The 
"Village  Hampdens,"  the  "mute,  inglorious  Miltons," 
and  Cromwells,  "guiltless  of"  their  "country's  blood," 
were  yet  unborn. 

"  Perchance  in  this  wild  spot  there  will  be  laid 
Some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire ; 


KTAADN.  17 

Hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  swayed, 
Or  waked  to  ecstasy  the  living  lyre." 

The  next  house  was  Fisk's,  ten  miles  from  the  Point, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  East  Branch,  opposite  to  the  island 
Nickatow,  or  the  Forks,  the  last  of  the  Indian  islands. 
I  am  particular  to  give  the  names  of  the  settlers  and  the 
distances,  since  every  log-hut  in  these  woods  is  a  public 
house,  and  such  information  is  of  no  little  consequence 
to  those  who  may  have  occasion  to  travel  this  way.  Our 
course  here  crossed  the  Penobscot,  and  followed  the. 
southern  bank.  One  of  the  party,  who  entered  the 
house  in  search  of  some  one  to  set  us  over,  reported  a 
very  neat  dwelling,  with  plenty  of  books,  and  a  new 
wife,  just  imported  from  Boston,  wholly  new  to  the 
woods.  We  found  the  East  Branch  a  large  and  rapid 
stream  at  its  mouth,  and  much  deeper  than  it  appeared. 
Having  with  some  difficulty  discovered  the  trail  again, 
we  kept  up  the  south  side  of  the  West  Branch,  or  main 
river,  passing  by  some  rapids  called  Rock-Ebeeme,  the 
roar  of  which  we  heard  through  the  woods,  and,  shortly 
after,  in  the  thickest  of  the  wood,  some  empty  loggers' 
camps,  still  new,  which  were  occupied  the  previous  win- 
ter. Though  we  saw  a  few  more  afterwards,  I  will  make 
one  account  serve  for  all.  These  were  such  houses  as 
the  lumberers  of  Maine  spend  the  winter  in,  in  the  wil- 
derness. There  were  the  camps  and  the  hovels  for  the 
cattle,  hardly  distinguishable,  except  that  the  latter  had 
no  chimney.  These  camps  were  about  twenty  feet  long 
by  fifteen  wide,  built  of  logs,  —  hemlock,  cedar,  spruce, 
or  yellow  birch,  —  one  kind  alone,  or  all  together,  with 
the  bark  on ;  two  or  three  large  ones  first,  one  directly 
above  another,  and  notched  together  at  the  ends,  to  the 
height  of  three  or  four  feet,  then  of  smaller  logs  resting 


18  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

upon  transverse  ones  at  the  ends,  each  of  the  last  suc- 
cessively shorter  than  the  other,  to  form  the  roof.  The 
chimney  was  an  oblong  square  hole  in  the  middle,  three 
or  four  feet  in  diameter,  with  a  fence  of  logs  as  high  as 
the  ridge.  The  interstices  were  filled  with  moss,  and 
the  roof  was  shingled  with  long  and  handsome  splints  of 
cedar,  or  spruce,  or  pine,  rifted  with  a  sledge  and  cleaver. 
The  fire-place,  the  most  important  place  of  all,  was  in 
shape  and  size  like  the  chimney,  and  directly  under  it, 
defined  by  a  log  fence  or  fender  on  the  ground,  and  a 
heap  of  ashes,  a  foot  or  two  deep,  within,  with  solid 
benches  of  split  logs  running  round  it.  Here  the  fire 
usually  melts  the  snow,  and  dries  the  rain  before  it  can 
descend  to  quench  it.  The  faded  beds  of  arbor-vitse 
leaves  extended  under  the  eaves  on  either  hand.  There 
was  the  place  for  the  water-pail,  pork-barrel,  and  wash- 
basin, and  generally  a  dingy  pack  of  cards  left  on  a  log. 
Usually  a  good  deal  of  whittling  was  expended  on  the 
latch,  which  was  made  of  wood,  in  the  form  of  an  iron 
one.  These  houses  are  made  comfortable  by  the  huge 
fires,  which  can  be  afforded  night  and  day.  Usually  the 
scenery  about  them  is  drear  arid  savage  enough ;  and  the 
loggers'  camp  is  as  completely  in  the  woods  as  a  fungus 
at  the  foot  of  a  pine  in  a  swamp ;  no  outlook  but  to  the 
sky  overhead ;  no  more  clearing  than  is  made  by  cutting 
down  the  trees  of  which  it  is  built,  and  those  which  are 
necessary  for  fuel.  If  only  it  be  well  sheltered  and  con- 
venient to  his  work,  and  near  a  spring,  he  wastes  no 
thought  on  the  prospect.  They  are  very  proper  forest 
houses,  the  •  stems  of  the  trees  collected  together  and 
piled  up  around  a  man  to  keep  out  wind  and  rain, — 
made  of  living  green  logs,  hanging  with  moss  and  lichen, 
and  with  the  curls  and  fringes  of  the  yellow-birch  bark, 


KTAADN.  19 

and  dripping  with  resin,  fresh  and  moist,  and  redolent  of 
swampy  odors,  with  that  sort  of  vigor  and  perenriialness 
even  about  them  that  toadstools  suggest.*/  The  logger's 
fare  consists  of  tea,  molasses,  flour,  pork  (sometimes  beef), 
and  beans.  A  great  proportion  of  the  beans  raised  in 
Massachusetts  find  their  market  here.  On  expeditions 
it  is  only  hard  bread  and  pork,  often  raw,  slice  upon 
slice,  with  tea  or  water,  as  the  case  may  be. 

The  primitive  wood  is  always  and  everywhere  damp 
and  mossy,  so  that  I  travelled  constantly  with  the  im- 
pression that  I  was  in  a  swamp  ;  and  only  when  it  was 
remarked  that  this  or  that  tract,  judging  from  the  qual- 
ity of  the  timber  on  it,  would  make  a  profitable  clearing, 
was  I  reminded,  that  if  the  sun  were  let  in  it  would 
make  a  dry  field,  like  the  few  I  had  seen,  at  once.  The 
best  shod  for  the  most  part  travel  with  wet  feet.  If  the 
ground  was  so  wet  and  spongy  at  this,  the  dryest  part 
of  a  dry  season,  what  must .  it  be  in  the  spring  ?  The 
woods  hereabouts  abounded  in  beech  and  yellow  birch, 
of  which  last  there  were  some  very  large  specimens  ; 
also  spruce,  cedar,  fir,  and  hemlock ;  but  we  saw  only 
the  stumps  of  the  white  pine  here,  some  of  them  of 
great  size,  these  having  been  already  culled  out,  being 
the  only  tree  much  sought  after,  even  as  low  down  as 
this.  Only  a  little  spruce  and  hemlock  beside  had  been 

*  Springer,  in  his  " Forest  Life"  (1851),  says  that  they  first  re- 
move the  leaves  and  turf  from  the  spot  where  they  intend  to  build  a 
camp,  for  fear  of  fire;  also,  that  "  the  spruce-tree  is  generally  select- 
ed for  camp-building,  it  being  light,  straight,  and  quite  free  from 
sap  " ;  that  "  the  roof  is  finally  covered  with  the  boughs  of  the  fir, 
spruce,  and  hemlock,  so  that  when  the  snow  falls  upon  the  whole,  the 
warmth  of  the  camp  is  preserved  in  the  coldest  weather";  and  that 
they  make  the  log  seat  before  the  fire,  called  the  "  Deacon's  Seat," 
of  a  spruce  or  fir  split  in  halves,  with  three  or  four  stout  limbs  left 
on  one  side  for  legs,  which  are  not  likely  to  get  loose. 


20  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

logged  here.  The  Eastern  wood  which  is  sold  for  fuel 
in  Massachusetts  all  comes  from  below  Bangor.  It  was 
the  pine  alone,  chiefly  the  white  pine,  that  had  tempted 
any  but  the  hunter  to  precede  us  on  this  route. 

Waite's  farm,  thirteen  miles  from  the  Point,  is  an  ex- 
tensive and  elevated  clearing,  from  which  we  got  a  fine 
view  of  the  river,  rippling  and  gleaming  far  beneath  us: 
My  companions  had  formerly  had  a  good  view  of  Ktaadn 
and  the  other  mountains  here,  but  to-day  it  was  so  smoky 
that  we  could  see  nothing  of  them.  We  could  overlook 
an  immense  country  of  uninterrupted  forest,  stretching 
away  up  the  East  Branch  toward  Canada,  on  the  north 
and  northwest,  and  toward  the  Aroostook  valley  on  the 
northeast ;  and  imagine  what  wild  life  was  stirring  in  its 
midst.  Here  was  quite  a  field  of  corn  for  this  region, 
whose  peculiar  dry  scent  we  perceived  a  third  of  a 
mile  off,  before  we  saw  it. 

Eighteen  miles  from  the  Point  brought  us  in  sight  of 
McCauslin's,  or  "  Uncle  George's,"  as  he  was  familiarly 
called  by  my  companions,  to  whom  he  was  well  known, 
where  we  intended  to  break  our  long  fast.  His  house 
was  in  the  midst  of  an  extensive  clearing  of  intervale, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Little  Schoodic  River,  on  the  op- 
posite or  north  bank  of  the  Penobscot.  So  we  collected 
on  a  point  of  the  shore,  that  we  might  be  seen,  and  fired 
our  gun  as  a  signal,  which  brought  "out  his  dogs  forth- 
with, and  thereafter  their  master,  who  in  due  time  took 
us  across  in  his  batteau.  This  clearing  was  bounded 
abruptly,  on  all  sides  but  the  river,  by  the  naked  stems 
of  the  forest,  as  if  you  were  to  cut  only  a  few  feet 
square  in  the  midst  of  a  thousand  acres  of  mowing,  and 
set  down  a  thimble  therein.  He  had  a  whole  heaven 
and  horizon  to  himself,  and  the  sun  seemed  to  be  jour- 


KTAADN.  .  21 

neying  over  his  clearing  only  the  livelong  day.  Here 
we  concluded  to  spend  the  night,  and  wait  for  the  In- 
dians, as  there  was  no  stopping-place  so  convenient 
.above.  He  had  seen  no  Indians  pass,  and  this  did  not 
often  happen  without  his  knowledge.  He  thought  that 
his  dogs  sometimes  gave  notice  of  the  approach  of  In- 
dians half  an  hour  before  they  arrived. 

McCauslin  was  a  Kennebec  man,  of  Scotch  descent, 
who  had  been  a  waterman  twenty-two  years,  and  had 
driven  on  the  lakes  and  head-waters  of  the  Penobscot 
five  or  six  springs  in  succession,  but  was  now  settled 
here  to  raise  supplies  for  the  lumberers  and  for  himself. 
He  entertained  us  a  day  or  two  with  true  Scotch  hospi- 
tality, and  would  accept  no  recompense  for  it.  A  man 
of  a  dry  wit  and  shrewdness,  and  a  general  intelligence 
which  I  had  not  looked  for  in  the  backwoods.  In  fact, 
the  deeper  you  penetrate  into  the  woods,  the  more  in- 
telligent, and,  in  one  sense,  less  countrified  do  you  find 
the  inhabitants  ;  for  always  the  pioneer  has  been  a  trav- 
eller, and,  to  some  extent,  a  man  of  the  world ;  and,  as 
the  distances  with  which  he  is  familiar  are  greater,  so 
is  his  information  more  general  and  far  reaching  than 
the  villagers.  If  I  were  to  look  for  a  narrow,  unin- 
formed, and  countrified  mind,  as  opposed  to  the  intelli- 
gence and  refinement  which  are  thought  to  emanate  from 
cities,  it  would  be  among  the  rusty  inhabitants  of  an  old- 
settled  country,  on  farms  all  run  out  and  gone  to  seed 
with  life-everlasting,  in  the  towns  about  Boston,  even 
on  the  high-road  in  Concord,  and  not  in  the  backwoods 
of  Maine. 

Supper  was  got  before  our  eyes  in  the  ample  kitchen, 
by  a  fire  which  would  have  roasted  an  ox  ;  many  whole 
logs,  four  feet  long,  were  consumed  to  boil  our  tea-kettle, 


22  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

—  birch,  or  beech,  or  maple,  the  same  summer  and  win- 
ter ;  and  the  dishes  were  soon  smoking  on  the  table, 
late  the  arm-chair,  against  the  wall,  from  which  one  of 
the  party  was  expelled.  The  arms  of  the  chair  formed, 
the  frame  on  which  the  table  rested;  and,  when  the 
round  top  was  turned  up  against  the  wall,  it  formed 
the  back  of  the  chair,  and  was  no  more  in  the  way  than 
the  wall  itself.  This,  we  noticed,  was  the  prevailing 
fashion  in  these  log-houses,  in  order  to  economize  in 
room.  There  were  piping-hot  wheaten  cakes,  the  flour 
having  been  brought  up  the  river  in  batteaux,  —  no  In- 
dian bread,  for  the  upper  part  of  Maine,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, is  a  wheat  country,  —  and  ham,  eggs,  and 
potatoes,  and  milk  and  cheese,  the  produce  of  the  farm  ; 
and  also  shad  and  salmon,  tea  sweetened  with  molasses, 
and  sweet  cakes,  in  contradistinction  to  the  hot  cakes  not 
sweetened,  the  one  white,  the  other  yellow,  to  wind  up 
with.  Such  we  found  was  the  prevailing  fare,  ordinary 
and  extraordinary,  along  this  river.  Mountain  cran- 
berries (  Vaccinium  Vitis-Id&a),  stewed  and  sweetened, 
were  the  common  dessert.  Everything  here  was  in  pro- 
fusion, and  the  best  of  its  kind.  Butter  was  in  such 
plenty  that  it  was  commonly  used,  before  it  was  salted, 
to  grease  boots  with. 

In  the  night  we  were  entertained  by  the  sound  of 
rain-drops  on  the  cedar-splints  which  covered  the  roof, 
and  awaked  the  next  morning  with  a  drop  or  two  in  our 
eyes.  It  had  set  in  for  a  storm,  and  we  made  up  our 
minds  not  to  forsake  such  comfortable  quarters  with  this 
prospect,  but  wait  for  Indians  and  fair  weather.  It 
rained  and  drizzled  and  gleamed  by  turns,  the  livelong 
day.  What  we  did  there,  how  we  killed  the  time, 
would  perhaps  be  idle  to  tell ;  how  many  times  we  but- 


KTAADN.  23 

tered  our  boots,  and  how  often  a  drowsy  one  was  seen 
to  sidle  off  to  the  bedroom.  When  it  held  up,  I  strolled 
up  and  down  the  bank,  and  gathered  the  harebell  and 
cedar-berries,  which  grew  there ;  or  else  we  tried  by 
turns  the  long-handled  axe  on  the  logs  before  the  door. 
The  axe-helves  here  were  made  to  chop  standing  on  the 
log,  —  a  primitive  log  of  course,  —  and  were,  therefore, 
nearly  a  foot  longer  than  with  us.  One  while  we 
walked  over  the  farm  and  visited  his  well-filled  barns 
with  McCauslin.  There  were  one  other  man  and  two 
women  only  here.  He  kept  horses,  cows,  oxen,  and 
sheep.  I  think  he  said  that  he  was  the  first  to  bring 
a  plough  and  a  cow  so  far ;  and  he  might  have  added 
the  last,  with  only  two  exceptions.  The  potato-rot  had 
found  him  out  here,  too,  the  previous  year,  and  got  half 
or  two  thirds  of  his  crop,  though  the  seed  was  of  his 
own  raising.  Oats,  grass,  and  potatoes  were  his  staples ; 
but  he  raised,  also,  a  few  carrots  and  turnips,  and  "  a 
little  corn  for  the  hens,"  for  this  was  all  that  he  dared 
risk,  for  fear  that  it  would  not  ripen.  Melons,  squashes, 
sweet-corn,  beans,  tomatoes,  and  many  other  vegetables, 
could  not  be  ripened  there. 

The  very  few  settlers  along  this  stream  were  obvi- 
ously tempted  by  the  cheapness  of  the  land  mainly. 
When  I  asked  McCauslin  why  more  settlers  did  not 
come  in,  he  answered,  that  one  reason  was,  they  could 
not  buy  the  land,  it  belonged  to  individuals  or  companies 
who  were  afraid  that  their  wild  lands  would  be  settled, 
and  so  incorporated  into  towns,  and  they  be  taxed  for 
them ;  but  to  settling  on  the  States'  land  there  was  no 
such  hinderance.  For  his  own  part,  he  wanted  no 
neighbors,  —  he  did  n't  wish  to  see  any  road  by  his 
house.  Neighbors,  even  the  besta  were  a  trouble  and 


24  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

expense,  especially  on  the  score  of  cattle  and  fences. 
They  might  live  across  the  river,  perhaps,  but  not  on 
the  same  side. 

The  chickens  here  were  protected  by  the  dogs.  As 
McCauslin  said,  "  The  old  one  took  it  up  first,  and  she 
taught  the  pup,  and  now  they  had  got  it  into  their  heads 
that  it  would  n't  do  to  have  anything  of  the  bird  kind 
on  the  premises."  A  hawk  hovering  over  was  not  al- 
lowed to  alight,  but  barked  off  by  the  dogs  circh'ng  un- 
derneath ;  and  a  pigeon,  or  a  "  yellow-hammer,"  as  they 
called  the  pigeon-woodpecker,  on  a  dead  limb  or  stump, 
was  instantly  expelled.  It  was  the  main  business  of 
their  day,  and  kept  them  constantly  coming  and  going. 
One  would  rush  out  of  the  house  on  the  least  alarm 
given  by  the  other. 

When  it  rained  hardest,  we  returned  to  the  house, 
and  took  down  a  tract  from  the  shelf.  There  was  the 
Wandering  Jew,  cheap  edition,  and  fine  print,  the  Crimi- 
nal Calendar,  and  Parish's  Geography,  and  flash  novels 
two  or  three.  Under  the  pressure  of  circumstances,  we 
read  a  little  in  these.  With  such  aid,  the  press  is  not 
so  feeble  an  engine,  after  all.  This  house,  which  was  a 
fair  specimen  of  those  on  this  river,  was  built  of  huge 
logs,  which  peeped  out  everywhere,  and  were  chinked 
with  clay  and  moss.  It  contained  four  or  five  rooms. 
There  were  no  sawed  boards,  or  shingles,  or  clapboards, 
about  it ;  and  scarcely  any  tool  but  the  axe  had  been 
used  in  its  construction.  The  partitions  were  made  of 
long  clapboard-like  splints,  of  spruce  or  cedar,  turned 
to  a  delicate  salmon  color  by  the  smoke.  The  roof  and 
sides  were  covered  with  the  same,  instead  of  shingles 
and  clapboards,  and  some  of  a  much  thicker  and  larger 
size  were  used  for  the  floor.  These  were  all  so  straight 


KTAADN.  25 

and  smooth,  that  they  answered  the  purpose  admirably ; 
and  a  careless  observer  would  not  have  suspected  that 
they  were  not  sawed  and  planed.  The  chimney  and 
hearth  were  of  vast  size,  and  made  of  stone.  The 
broom  was  a  few  twigs  of  arbor-vitae  tied  to  a  stick; 
and  a  pole  was  suspended  over  the  hearth,  close  to  the 
ceilings,  to  dry  stockings  and  clothes  on.  I  noticed  that 
the  floor  was  full  of  small,  dingy  holes,  as  if  made  with 
a  gimlet,  but  which  were,  in  fact,  made  by  the  spikes, 
nearly  an  inch  long,  which  the  lumberers  wear  in  their 
boots  to  prevent  their  slipping  on  wet  logs.  Just  above 
McCauslin's,  there  is  a  rocky  rapid,  where  logs  jam  in 
the  spring;  and  many  "drivers"  are  there  collected, 
who  frequent  his  house  for  supplies ;  these  were  their 
tracks  which  I  saw. 

At  sundown  McCauslin  pointed  away  over  the  forest, 
across  the  river,  to  signs  of  friir  weather  amid  the 
clouds,  —  some  evening  redness  there.  For  even  there 
the  points  of  compass  held;  and  there  was  a  quarter 
of  the  heavens  appropriated  to  sunrise  and  another  to 
sunset. 

The  next  morning,  the  weather  proving  fair  enough 
for  our  purpose,  we  prepared  to  start,  and,  the  Indians 
having  failed  us,  persuaded  McCauslin,  who  was  not 
unwilling  to  revisit  the  scenes  of  his  driving,  to  accom- 
pany us  in  their  stead,  intending  to  engage  one  other 
boatman  on  the  way.  A  strip  of  cotton  cloth  for  a 
tent,  a  couple  of  blankets,  which  would  suffice  for  the 
whole  party,  fifteen  pounds  of  hard  bread,  ten  pounds 
of  "  clear "  pork,  and  a  little  tea,  made  up  "  TJncle 
George's"  pack.  The  last  three  articles  were  calcu- 
lated to  be  provision  enough  for  six  men  for  a  week, 
with  what  we  might  pick  up.  A  tea-kettle,  a  frying- 
2 


26  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

pan,  and  an  axe,  to  be  obtained  at  the  last  house,  would 
complete  our  outfit. 

We  were  soon  out  of  McCauslin's  clearing,  and  in  the 
ever  green  woods  again.  The  obscure  trail  made  by  the 
two  settlers  above,  which  even  the  woodman  is  some- 
times puzzled  to  discern,  erelong  crossed  a  narrow,  open 
strip  in  the  woods  overrun  with  weeds,  called  the  Burnt 
Land,  where  a  fire  had  raged  formerly,  stretching  north- 
ward nine  or  ten  miles,  to  Millinocket  Lake.  At  the 
end  of  three  miles,  we  reached  Shad  Pond,  or  Nolisee- 
mack,  an  expansion  of  the  river.  Hodge,  the  Assistant 
State  Geologist,  who  passed  through  this  on  the  25th 
of  June,  1837,  says,  "We  pushed  our  boat  through 
an  acre  or  more  of  buck-beans,  which  had  taken  root 
at  the  bottom,  and  bloomed  above  the  surface  in  the 
greatest  profusion  and  beauty."  Thomas  Fowler's  house 
is  four  miles  from  McCauslin's,  on  the  shore  of  the  pond, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Millinocket  River,  and  eight  miles 
from  the  lake  of  the  same  name,  on  the  latter  stream. 
This  lake  affords  a  more  direct  course  to  Ktaadn,  but 
we  preferred  to  follow  the  Penobscot  and  the  Pamadum- 
cook  lakes.  Fowler  was  just  completing  a  new  log-hut, 
and  was  sawing  out  a  window  through  the  logs,  nearly 
two  feet  thick,  when  we  arrived.  He  had  begun  to  paper 
his  house  with  spruce-bark,  turned  inside  out,  which  had 
a  good  effect,  and  was  in  keeping  with  the  circumstances. 
Instead  of  water  we  got  here  a  draught  of  beer,  which, 
it  was  allowed,  would  be  better ;  clear  and  thin,  but 
strong  and  stringent  as  the  cedar-sap.  It  was  as  if  we 
sucked  at  the  very  teats  of  Nature's  pine-clad  bosom  in 
these  parts,  —  the  sap  of  all  Millinocket  botany  commin- 
gled,—  the  topmost,  most  fantastic,  and  spiciest  sprays 
of  the  primitive  wood,  and  whatever  invigorating  and 


KTAADN.  27 

stringent  gum  or  essence  it  afforded  steeped  and  dis- 
solved in  it,  —  a  lumberer's  drink,  which  would  acclimate 
and  naturalize  a  man  at  once,  —  which  would  make  him 
see  green,  and,  if  he  slept,  dream  that  he  heard  the  wind 
sough  among  the  pines.  Here  was  a  fife,  praying  to  be 
played  on,  through  which  we  breathed  a  few  tuneful 
strains,  —  brought  hither  to  tame  wild  beasts.  As  we 
stood  upon  the  pile  of  chips  by  the  door,  fish-hawks 
were  sailing  overhead ;  and  here,  over  Shad  Pond,  might 
daily  be  witnessed  the  tyranny  of  the  bald-eagle  over 
that  bird.  Tom  pointed  away  over  the  lake  to  a  bald- 
eagle's  nest,  which  was  plainly  visible  more  than  a  mile 
off,  on  a  pine,  high  above  the  surrounding  forest,  and 
was  frequented  from  year  to  year  by  the  same  pair,  and 
held  sacred  by  him.  There  were  these  two  houses  only 
there,  his  low  hut  and  the  eagles'  airy  cart-load  of  fagots. 
Thomas  Fowler,  too,  was  persuaded  to  join  us,  for  two 
men  were  necessary  to  manage  the  batteau,  which  was 
soon  to  be  our  carriage,  and  these  men  needed  to  be  cool 
and  skilful  for  the  navigation  of  the  Penobscot.  Tom's 
pack  was  soon  made,  for  he  had  not  far  to  look  for  his 
waterman's  boots,  and  a  red-flannel  shirt.  This  is  the 
favorite  color  with  lumbermen  ;  and  red  flannel  is  re- 
puted to  possess  some  mysterious  virtues,  to  be  most 
healthful  and  convenient  in  respect  to  perspiration.  In 
every  gang  there  will  be  a  large  proportion  of  red  birds. 
We  took  here  a  poor  and  leaky  batteau,  and  began  to 
pole  up  the  Millinocket  two  miles,  to  the  elder  Fowler's, 
in  order  to  avoid  the  Grand  Falls  of  the  Penobscot, 
intending  to  exchange  our  batteau  there  for  a  better. 
The  Millinocket  is  a  small,  shallow,  and  sandy  stream, 
full  of  what  I  took  to  be  lamprey-eels'  or  suckers'  nests, 
and  lined  with  musquash  cabins,  but  free  from  rapids, 


THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

according  to  Fowler,  excepting  at  its  outlet  from  the 
lake.  He  was  at  this  time  engaged  in  cutting  the  native 
grass, — rush-grass  and  meadow-clover,  as  he  called  it, — 
on  the  meadows  and  small,  low  islands  of  this  stream. 
We  noticed  flattened  places  in  the  grass  on  either  side, 
•where,  he  said,  a  moose  had  laid  down  the  night  before, 
adding,  that  there  were  thousands  in  these  meadows. 

Old  Fowler's,  on  the  Millinocket,  six  miles  from  Mc- 
Causlin's,  and  twenty-four  from  the  Point,  is  the  last 
house.  Gibson's,  on  the  Sowadnehunk,  is  the  only  clear- 
ing above,  but  that  had  proved  a  failure,  and  was  long 
since  deserted.  Fowler  is  the  oldest  inhabitant  of  these 
woods.  He  formerly  lived  a  few  miles  from  here,  on 
the  south  side  of  the  West  Branch,  where  he  built  his 
house  sixteen  years  ago,  the  first  house  built  above  the 
Five  Islands.  Here  our  new  batteau  was  to  be  carried 
over  the*  first  portage  of  two  miles,  round  the  Grand 
Falls  of  the  Penobscot,  on  a  horse-sled  made  of  sap- 
lings, to  jump  the  numerous  rocks  in  the  way  ;  but  we 
had  to  wait  a  couple  of  hours  for  them  to  catch  the 
horses,  which  were  pastured  at  a  distance,  amid  the 
stumps,  and  had  wandered  still  farther  off.  The  last 
of  the  salmon  for  this  season  had  just  been  caught,  and 
were  still  fresh  in  pickle,  from  which  enough  was  ex- 
tracted to  fill  our  empty  kettle,  and  so  graduate  our 
introduction  to  simpler  forest  fare.  The  week  before 
they  had  lost  nine  sheep  here  out  of  their  first  flock, 
by  the  wolves.  The  surviving  sheep  came  round  the 
house,  and  seemed  frightened,  which  induced  them  to  go 
and  look  for  the  rest,  when  they  found  seven  dead  and 
lacerated,  and  two  still  alive.  These  last  they  carried 
to  the  house,  and,  as  Mrs.  Fowler  said,  they  were  merely 
scratched  in  the  throat,  and  had  no  more  visible  wound 


KTAADN.  29 

than  would  be  produced  by  the  prick  of  a  pin.  She 
sheared  off  the  wool  from  their  throats,  and  washed 
them,  and  put  on  some  salve,  and  turned  them  out,  but 
in  a  few  moments  they  were  missing,  and  had  not  been 
found  since.  In  fact,  they  were  all  poisoned,  and  those 
that  were  found  swelled  up  at  once,  so  that  they  saved 
neither  skin  nor  wool.  This  realized  the  old  fables  of 
the  wolves  and  the  sheep,  and  convinced  me  that  that 
ancient  hostility  still  existed.  Verily,  the  shepherd-boy 
did  not  need  to  sound  a  false  alarm  this  time.  There 
were  steel  traps  by  the  door,  of  various  sizes,  for  wolves, 
otter,  and  bears,  with  large  claws  instead  of  teeth,  to 
catch  in  their  sinews.  Wolves  are  frequently  killed 
with  poisoned  bait. 

At  length,  after  we  had  dined  here  on  the  usual  back- 
woods fare,  the  horses  arrived,  and  we  hauled  our  batteau 
out  of  the  water,  and  lashed  it  to  its  wicker  carriage,  and, 
throwing  in  our  packs,  walked  on  before,  leaving  the 
boatmen  and  driver,  who  was  Tom's  brother,  to  manage 
the  concern.  The  route,  which  led  through  the  wild 
pasture  where  the  sheep  were  killed,  was  in  some  places 
the  roughest  ever  travelled  by  horses,  over  rocky  hills, 
where  the  sled  bounced  and  slid  along,  like  a  vessel 
pitching  in  a  storm ;  and  one  man  was  as  necessary  to 
stand  at  the  stern,  to  prevent  the  boat  from  being 
wrecked,  as  a  helmsman  in  the  roughest  sea.  The 
philosophy  of  our  progress  was  something  like  this : 
when  the  runners  struck  a  rock  three  or  four  feet  high, 
the  sled  bounced  back  and  upwards  at  the  same  time  ; 
but,  as  the  horses  never  ceased  pulling,  it  came  down  on 
the  top  of  the  rock,  and  so  we  got  over.  This  portage 
probably  followed  the  trail  of  an  ancient  Indian  carry 
round  these  falls.  By  two  o'clock  we,  who  had  walked 


30  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

on  before,  reached  the  river  above  the  falls,  not  far  from 
the  outlet  of  Quakish  Lake,  and  waited  for  the  batteau 
to  come  up.  We  had  been  here  but  a  short  time,  when 
a  thunder-shower  was  seen  coming  up  from  the  west, 
over  the  still  invisible  lakes,  and  that  pleasant  wilder- 
ness which  we  were  so  eager  to  become  acquainted 
with ;  and  soon  the  heavy  drops  began  to  patter  on  the 
leaves  around  us.  I  had  just  selected  the  prostrate 
trunk  of  a  huge  pine,  five  or  six  feet  in  diameter,  and 
was  crawling  under  it,  when,  luckily,  the  boat  arrived. 
It  would  have  amused  a  sheltered  man  to  witness  the 
manner  in  which  it  was  unlashed,  and  whirled  over, 
while  the  first  water-spout  burst  upon  us.  It  was  no 
sooner  in  the  hands  of  the  eager  company  than  it  was 
abandoned  to  the  first  revolutionary  impulse,  and  to 
gravity,  to  adjust  it;  and  they  might  have  been  seen 
till  stooping  to  its  shelter,  and  wriggling  under  like  so 
many  eels,  before  it  was  fairly  deposited  on  the  ground. 
•When  all  were  under,  we  propped  up  the  lee  side,  and 
busied  ourselves  there  whittling  thole-pins  for  rowing, 
when  we  should  reach  the  lakes ;  and  made  the  woods 
ring,  between  the  claps  of  thunder,  with  such  boat-songs 
as  we  could  remember.  The  horses  stood  sleek  and 
shining  with  the  rain,  all  drooping  and  crestfallen,  while 
deluge  after  deluge  washed  over  us ;  but  the  bottom  of  a 
boat  may  be  relied  on  for  a  tight  roof.  At  length,  after 
two  hours'  delay  at  this  place,  a  streak  of  fair  weather 
appeared  in  the  northwest,  whither  our  course  now  lay, 
promising  a  serene  evening  for  our  voyage  ;  and  the 
driver  returned  with  his  horses,  while  we  made  haste 
to  launch  our  boat,  and  commence  our  voyage  in  good 
earnest. 

There  were  six  of  us,  including  the  two  boatmen. 


KTAADN.  31 

With  our  packs  heaped  up  near  the  bows,  and  ourselves 
disposed  as  baggage  to  trim  the  boat,  with  instructions 
not  to  move  in  case  we  should  strike  a  rock,  more  than 
so  many  barrels  of  pork,  we  pushed  out  into  the  first 
rapid,  a  slight  specimen  of  the  stream  we  had  to  navi- 
gate. With  Uncle  George  in  the  stern,  and  Tom  in 
the  bows,  each  using  a  spruce  pole  about  twelve  feet 
long,  pointed  with  iron,*  and  poling  on  the  same  side, 
we  shot  up  the  rapids  like  a  salmon,  the  water  rushing 
and  roaring  around,  so  that  only  a  practised  eye  could 
distinguish  a  safe  course,  or  tell  what  was  deep  water 
and  what  rocks,  frequently  grazing  the  latter  on  one  or 
both  sides,  with  a  hundred  as  narrow  escapes  as  ever 
the  Argo  had  in  passing  through  the  Symplegades.  I, 
who  had  had  some  experience  in  boating,  had  never 
experienced  any  half  so  exhilarating  before.  We  were 
lucky  to  have  exchanged  our  Indians,  whom  we  did  not 
know,  for  these  men,  who,  together  with  Tom's  brother, 
were  reputed  the  best  boatmen  on  the  river,  and  were  at 
once  indispensable  pilots  and  pleasant  companions.  The 
canoe  is  smaller,  more  easily  upset,  and  sooner  worn 
out ;  and  the  Indian  is  said  not  to  be  so  skilful  in  the 
management  of  the  batteau.  He  is,  for  the  most  part, 
less  to  be  relied  on,  and  more  disposed  to  sulks  and 
whims.  The  utmost  familiarity  with  dead  streams,  or 
with  the  ocean,  would  not  prepare  a  man  for  this  pecu- 
liar navigation  ;  and  the  most  skilful  boatman  anywhere 
else  would  here  be  obliged  to  take  out  his  boat  and  carry 
round  a  hundred  times,  still  with  great  risk,  as  well  as 
delay,  where  the  practised  batteau-man  poles  up  with 
comparative  ease  and  safety.  The  hardy  "voyageur" 
pushes  with  incredible  perseverance  and  success  quite 

*  The  Canadians  call  it  picguer  defend. 


32  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

up  to  the  foot  of  the  falls,  and  then  only  carries  round 
some  perpendicular  ledge,  and  launches  again  in 
"  The  torrent's  smoothness,  ere  it  dash  below," 
to  struggle  with  the  boiling  rapids  above.  The  Indians 
say  that  the  river  once  ran  both  ways,  one  half  up  and 
the  other  down,  but  that,  since  the  white  man  came,  it 
all  runs  down,  and  now  they  must  laboriously  pole  their 
canoes  against  the  stream,  and  carry  them  over  numerous 
portages.  In  the  summer,  all  stores  —  the  grindstone  and 
the  plough  of  the  pioneer,  flour,  pork,  and  utensils  for  the 
explorer  —  must  be  conveyed  up  the  river  in  batteaux  ; 
and  many  a  cargo  and  many  a  boatman  is  lost  in  these 
waters.  In"  the  winter,  however,  which  is  very  equable 
and  long,  the  ice  is  the  great  highway,  and  the  loggers' 
team  penetrates  to  Chesuncook  Lake,  and  still  higher 
up,  even  two  hundred  miles  above  Bangor.  Imagine" 
the  solitary  sled-track  running  far  up  into  the  snowy 
and  evergreen  wilderness,  hemmed  in  closely  for  a  hun- 
dred miles  by  the  forest,  and  again  stretching  straight 
across  the  broad  surfaces  of  concealed  lakes  ! 

"We  were  soon  in  the  smooth  water  of  the  Quakish 
Lake,  and  took  our  turns  at  rowing  and  paddling  across 
it.  It  is  a  small,  irregular,  but  handsome  lake,  shut  in 
on  all  sides  by  the  forest,  and  showing  no  traces  of  man 
but  some  low  boom  in  a  distant  cove,  reserved  for  spring 
use.  The  spruce  and  cedar  on  its  shores,  hung  with 
gray  lichens,  looked  at  a  distance  like  the  ghosts  of  trees. 
Ducks  were  sailing  here  and  there  on  its  surface,  and  a 
solitary  loon,  like  a  more  living  wave,  —  a  vital  spot  on 
the  lake's  surface,  —  laughed  and  frolicked,  and  showed 
its  straight  leg,  for  our  amusement.  Joe  Merry  Moun- 
tain appeared  in  the  northwest,  as  if  it  were  looking 
down  on  this  lake  especially ;  and  we  had  our  first,  but 


KTAADN.  33 

a  partial  view  of  Ktaadn,  its  summit  veiled  in  clouds, 
like  a  dark  isthmus  in  that  quarter,  connecting  the 
heavens  witfr  the  earth.  After  two  miles  of  smooth 
rowing  across  this  lake,  we  found  ourselves  in  the  river 
again,  which  was  a  continuous  rapid  for  one  mile,  to 
the  dam,  requiring  all  the  strength  and  skill  of  our  boat- 
men to  pole  up  it. 

This  dam  is  a  quite  important  and  expensive  work 
for  this  country,  whither  cattle  and  horses  cannot  pene- 
trate in  the  summer,  raising  the  whole  river  ten  feet, 
and  flooding,  as  they  said,  some  sixty  square  miles  by 
means  of  the  innumerable  lakes  with  which  the  river 
connects.  It  is  a  lofty  and  solid  structure,  with  sloping 
piers  some  distance  above,  made  of  frames  of  logs  filled 
with  stones,  to  break  the  ice.*  Here  every  log  pays  toll 
as  it  passes  through  the  sluices. 

We  filed  into  the  rude  logger's  camp  at  this  place, 
such  as  I  have  described,  without  ceremony,  and  the 
cook,  at  that  moment  the  sole  occupant,  at  once  set  about 
preparing  tea  for  his  visitors.  His  fireplace,  which  the 
rain  had  converted  into  a  mud-puddle,  was  soon  blazing 
again,  and  we  sat  down  on  the  log  benches  around  it 
to  dry  us.  On  the  well-flattened  and  somewhat  faded 
beds  of  arbor-vitae  leaves,  which  stretched  on  either 
hand  under  the  eaves  behind  us,  lay  an  odd  leaf  of  the 
Bible,  some  genealogical  chapter  out  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment ;  and,  half  buried  by  the  leaves,  we  found  Emer- 
son's Address  on  West  India  Emancipation,  which  had 
been  left  here  formerly  by  one  of  our  company,  and  had 

*  Even  the  Jesuit  missionaries,  accustomed  to  the  St.  Lawrence 
and  other  rivers  of  Canada,  in  their  first  expeditions  to  the  Abena- 
quinois,  speak  of  rivers  ferrees  de  rockers,  shod  with  rocks.  See  also 
No.  10  Kelations,  for  1647,  p.  185. 

2*  C 


34  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

made  two  converts  to  the  Liberty  party  here,  as  I  was  told ; 
also,  an  odd  number  of  the  Westminster  Review,  for 
1834,  and  a  pamphlet  entitled  History  of  *the  Erection 
of  the  Monument  on  the  grave  of  Myron  Holly.  This 
was  the  readable,  or  reading  matter,  in  a  lumberer's 
camp  in  the  Maine  woods,  thirty  miles  from  a  road, 
which  would  be  given  up  to  the  bears  in  a  fortnight. 
These  things  were  well  thumbed  and  soiled.  This  gang 
was  headed  by  one  John  Morrison,  a  good  specimen  of  a 
Yankee  ;  and  was  necessarily  composed  of  men  not  bred 
to  the  business  of  dam-building,  but  who  were  Jacks-at- 
all-trades,  handy  with  the  axe,  and  other  simple  imple- 
ments, and  well  skilled  in  wood  and  water  craft.  "We 
had  hot  cakes  for  our  supper  even  here,  white  as  snow- 
balls, but  without  butter,  and  the  never-failing  sweet 
cakes,  with  which  we  filled  our  pockets,  foreseeing  that 
we  should  not  soon  meet  with  the  like  again.  Such 
delicate  puff-balls  seemed  a  singular  diet  for  backwoods- 
men. There  was  also  tea  without  milk,  sweetened  with 
molasses.  ,And  so,  exchanging  a  word  with  John  Mor- 
rison and  his  gang  when  we  had  returned  to  the  shore, 
and  also  exchanging  our  batteau  for  a  better  still,  we 
made  haste  to  improve  the  little  daylight  that  remained. 
This  camp,  exactly  twenty-nine  miles  from  Mattawam- 
keag  Point,  by  the  way  we  had  come,  and  about  one 
hundred  from  Bangor  by  the  river,  was  the  last  human 
habitation  of  any  kind  in  this  direction.  Beyond,  there 
was  no  trail ;  and  the  river  and  lakes,  by  batteaux  and 
canoes,  was  considered  the  only  practicable  route.  We 
were  about  thirty  miles  by  the  river  from  the  summit 
of  Ktaadn,  which  was  in  sight,  though  not  more  than 
twenty,  perhaps,  in  a  straight  line. 

It  being  about  the  full  of  the  moon,  and  a  warm  and 


KTAADN.  35 

pleasant  evening,  we  decided  to  row  five  miles  by  moon- 
light to  the  head  of  the  North  Twin  Lake,  lest  the  wind 
should  rise  on  the  morrow.  After  one  mile  of  river,  or 
what  the  boatmen  call  "thoroughfare,"  —  for  the  river 
becomes  at  length  only  the  connecting  link  between  the 
lakes,  —  and  some  slight  rapid  which  had  been  mostly 
made  smooth  water  by  the  dam,  we  entered  the  North 
Twin  Lake  just  after  sundown,  and  steered  across  for 
the  river  "  thoroughfare,"  four  miles  distant.  This  is  a 
noble  sheet  of  water,  where  one  may  get  the  impression 
which  a  new  country  and  a  "  lake  of  the  woods "  are 
fitted  to  create.  There  was  the  smoke  of  no  log-hut  nor 
camp  of  any  kind  to  greet  us,  still  less  was  any  lover  of 
nature  or  musing  traveller  watching  our  batteau  from 
the  distant  hills ;  not  even  the  Indian  hunter  was  there, 
for  he  rarely  climbs  them,  but  hugs  the  river  like  our- 
selves. No  face  welcomed  us  but  the  fine  fantastic 
sprays  of  free  and  happy  evergreen  trees,  waving  one 
above  another  in  their  ancient  home.  At  first  the  red 
clouds  hung  over  the  western  shore  as  gorgeously  as  if 
over  a  city,  and  the  lake  lay  open  to  the  light  with  even 
a  civilized  aspect,  as  if  expecting  trade  and  commerce, 
and  towns  and  villas.  We  could  distinguish  the  inlet  to 
the  South  Twin,  which  is  said  to  be  the  larger,  where 
the  shore  was  misty  and  blue,  and  it  was  worth  the  while 
to  look  thus  through  a  narrow  opening  across  the  entire 
expanse  of  a  concealed  lake  to  its  own  yet  more  dim  and 
distant  shore.  The  shores  rose  gently  to  ranges  of  low 
hills  covered  with  forests  ;  and  though,  in  fact,  the  most 
valuable  white  pine  timber,  even  about  this  lake,  had 
been  culled  out,  this  would  never  have  been  suspected 
by  the  voyager.  The  impression,  which  indeed  corre- 
sponded with  the  fact,  was,  as  if  we  were  upon  a  high 


36  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

table-land  between  the  States  and  Canada,  the  northern 
side  of  which  is  drained  by  the  St.  John  and  Chaudiere, 
the  southern  by  the  Penobscot  and  Kennebec.  There 
was  no  bold  mountainous  shore,  as  we  might  have  ex- 
pected, but  only  isolated  hills  and  mountains  rising  here 
and  there  from  the  plateau.  The  country  is  an  archi- 
pelago of  lakes,  —  the  lake-country  of  New  England. 
Their  levels  vary  but  a  few  feet,  and  the  boatmen,  by 
short  portages,  or  by  none  at  all,  pass  easily  from  one  to 
another.  They  say  that  at  very  high  water  the  Penob- 
scot and  the  Kennebec  flow  into  each  other,  or  at  any 
rate,  that  you  may  lie  with  your  face  in  the  one  and 
your  toes  in  the  other.  Even  the  Penobscot  and  St. 
John  have  been  connected  by  a  canal,  so  that  the  lumber 
of  the  Allegash,  instead  of  going  down  the  St.  John, 
comes  down  the  Penobscot;  and  the  Indian's  tradition, 
that  the  Penobscot  once  ran  both  ways  for  his  conven- 
ience, is,  in  one  sense,  partially  realized  to-day. 

None  of  our  party  but  McCauslin  had  been  above  this 
lake,  so  we  trusted  to  him  to  pilot  us,  and  we  could  not 
but  confess  the  importance  of  a  pilot  on  these  waters. 
While  it  is  river,  you  will  not  easily  forget  which  way  is 
up  stream ;  but  when  you  enter  a  lake,  the  river  is  com- 
pletely lost,  and  you  scan  the  distant  shores  in  vain  to 
find  where  it  comes  in.  A  stranger  is,  for  the  time  at 
least,  lost,  and  must  set  about  a  voyage  of  discovery  first 
of  all  to  find  the  river.  To  follow  the  windings  of  the 
shore  when  the  lake  is  ten  miles,  or  even  more,  in  length, 
and  of  an  irregularity  which  will  not  soon  be  mapped,  is 
a  wearisome  voyage,  and  will  spend  his  time  and  his 
provisions.  They  tell  a  story  of  a  gang  of  experienced 
woodmen  sent  to  a  location  on  this  stream,  who  were 
thus  lost  in  the  wilderness  of  lakes.  They  cut  their  way 


KTAADN.  37 

through  thickets,  and  carried  their  baggage  and  their 
boats  over  from  lake  to  lake,  sometimes  several  miles. 
They  carried  into  Millinocket  Lake,  which  is  on  another 
stream,  and  is  ten  miles  square,  and  contains  a  hundred 
islands.  They  explored  its  shores  thoroughly,  and  then 
carried  into  another,  and  another,  and  it  was  a  week  of 
toil  and  anxiety  before  they  found  the  Penobscot  River 
again,  and  then  their  provisions  were  exhausted,  and 
they  were  obliged  to  return. 

While  Uncle  George  steered  for  a  small  island  near 
the  head  of  the  lake,  now  just  visible,  like  a  speck  on 
the  water,  we  rowed  by  turns  swiftly  over  its  surface, 
singing  such  boat-songs  as  we  could  remember.'  The 
shores  seemed  at  an  indefinite  distance  in  the  moonlight. 
Occasionally  we  paused  in  our  singing  and  rested  on  our 
oars,  while  we  listened  to  hear  if  the  wolves  howled,  for 
this  is  a  common  serenade,  and  my  companions  affirmed 
that  it  was  the  most  dismal  and  unearthly  of  sounds ; 
but  we  heard  none  this  time.  If  we  did  not  hear,  how- 
ever, we  did  listen,  not  without  a  reasonable  expectation  ; 
that  at  least  I  have  to  tell,  —  only  some  utterly  uncivil- 
ized, big-throated  owl  hooted  loud  and  dismally  in  the 
drear  and  houghxw^erness>  plainly  not  nervous  about 
his  solitary  life,  nor  afraid  to  hear  the  echoes  of  his 
voice  there.  We  remembered  also  that  possibly  moose 
were  silently  watching  us  from  the  distant  coves,  or 
some  surly  bear  or  timid  caribou  had  been  startled  by 
our  singing.  It  was  with  new  emphasis  that  we  sang 
there  the  Canadian  boat-song,  — 

"  Kow,  brothers,  row,  the  stream  runs  fast, 
The  Kapids  are  near  and  the  daylight 's  past !  "  — 

which  describes  precisely  our  own  adventure,  and  was 
inspired  by  the  experience  of  a  similar  kind  of  life,— 


38  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

for  the  rapids  were  ever  near,  and  the  daylight  long 
past ;  the  woods  on  shore  looked  dim,  and  many  an 
Utawas'  tide  here  emptied  into  the  lake. 

"  Why  should  we  yet  our  sail  unfurl? 
There  is  not  a  breath  the  blue  wave  to  curl ! 
But,  when  the  wind  blows  off  the  shore, 
0  sweetly  we  '11  rest  our  weary  oar." 

"  Utawas'  tide !  this  trembling  moon, 
Shall  see  us  float  o'er  thy  surges  soon." 

At  last  we  glided  past  the  "  green  isle "  which  had 
been  our  landmark,  all  joining  in  the  chorus  ;  as  if  by 
the  watery  links  of  rivers  and  of  lakes  we  were  about 
to  float  over  unmeasured  zones  of  earth,  bound  on  un- 
imaginable adventures,  — . 

"  Saint  of  this  green  isle !  hear  our  prayers, 
0  grant  us  cool  heavens  and  favoring  airs !  " 

About  nine  o'clock  we  reached  the  river,  and  ran  our 
boat  into  a  natural  haven  between  some  rocks,  and  drew 
her  out  on  the  sand.  This  camping-ground  McCauslin 
had  been  familiar  with  in  his  lumbering  days,  and  he 
now  struck  it  unerringly  in  the  moonlight,  and  we  heard 
the  sound  of  the  rill  which  would  supply  us  with  cool 
water  emptying  into  the  lake.  The  first  business  was  to 
make  a  fire,  an  operation  which  was  a  little  delayed  by 
the  wetness  of  the  fuel  and  the  ground,  owing  to  the 
heavy  showers  of  the  afternoon.  The  fire  is  the  main 
comfort  of  the  camp,  whether  in  summer  or  winter,  and 
is  about  as  ample  at  one  season  as  at  another.  It  is  as 
well  for  cheerfulness  as  for  warmth  and  dryness.  It 
forms  one  side  of  the  camp  ;  one  bright  side  at  any  rate. 
Some  were  dispersed  to  fetch  in  dead  trees  and  boughs, 
while  Uncle  George  felled  the  birches  and  beeches  which 
stood  convenient,  and  soon  we  had  a  fire  some  ten  feet 


KTAADN.  39 

long  by  three  or  four  high,  which  rapidly  dried  the 
sand  before  it.  This  was  calculated  to  burn  all  night. 
We  next  proceeded  to  pitch  our  tent ;  which  operation 
was  performed  by  sticking  our  two  spike-poles  into  the 
ground  in  a  slanting  direction,  about  ten  feet  apart,  for 
rafters,  and  then  drawing  our  cotton  cloth  over  them, 
and  tying  it  down  at  the  ends,  leaving  it  open  in  front, 
shed-fashion.  But  this  evening  the  wind  carried  the 
sparks  on  to  the  tent  and  burned  it.  So  we  hastily  drew 
up  the  batteau  just  within  the  edge  of  the  woods  before 
the  fire,  and  propping  up  one  side  three  or  four  feet 
high,  spread  the  tent  on  the  ground  to  lie  on  ;  and  with 
the  corner  of  a  blanket,  or  what  more  or  less  we  could 
get  to  put  over  us,  lay  down  with  our  heads  and  bodies 
under  the  boat,  and  our  feet  and  legs  on  the  sand  toward 
the  fire.  At  first  we  lay  awake,  talking  of  our  course, 
and  finding  ourselves  in  so  convenient  a  posture  for 
studying  the  heavens,  with  the  moon  and  stars  shining 
in  our  faces,  our  conversation  naturally  turned  upon 
astronomy,  and  we  recounted  by  turns  the  most  inter- 
esting discoveries  in  that  science.  But  at  length  we 
composed  ourselves  seriously  to  sleep.  It  was  inter- 
esting, when  awakened  at  midnight,  to  watch  the  gro- 
tesque and  fiend-like  forms  and  motions  of  some  one 
of  the  party,  who,  not  being  able  to  sleep,  had  got  up 
silently  to  arouse  the  fire,  and  add  fresh  fuel,  for  a 
change ;  now  stealthily  lugging  a  dead  tree  from  out 
the  dark,  and  heaving  it  on,  now  stirring  up  the  embers 
with  his  fork,  or  tiptoeing  about  to  observe  the  stars, 
watched,  perchance,  by  half  the  prostrate  party  in 
breathless  silence ;  so  much  the  more  intense  because 
they  were  awake,  while  each  supposed  his  neighbor 
sound  asleep.  Thus  aroused,  I  too  brought  fresh  fuel 


40  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

to  the  fire,  and  then  rambled  along  the  sandy  shore  in 
the  moonlight,  hoping  to  meet  a  moose,  come  down  to 
drink,  or  else  a  wolf.  The  little  rill  tinkled  the  louder, 
and  peopled  all  the  wilderness  for  me  ;  and  the  glassy 
smoothness  of  the  sleeping  lake,  laving  the  shores  of  a 
new  world,  with  the  dark,  fantastic  rocks  rising  here  and 
there  from  its  surface,  made  a  scene  not  easily  described. 
It  has  left  such  an  impression  of  stern,  yet  gentle,  wild- 
ness  on  my  memory  as  will  not  soon  be  effaced.  Not 
far  from  midnight  we  were  one  after  another  awakened 
by  rain  falling  on  our  extremities;  and  as  each  was 
made  aware  of  the  fact  by  cold  or  wet,  he  drew  a  long 
sigh  and  then  drew  up  his  legs,  until  gradually  we  had 
all  sidled  round  from  lying  at  right  angles  with  the  boat, 
till  our  bodies  formed  an  acute  angle  with  it,  and  were 
wholly  protected.  When  next  we  awoke,  the  moon  and 
stars  were  shining  again,  and  there  were  signs  of  dawn 
in  the  east,  f  I  have  been  thus  particular  in  order  to  con- 
vey some 'idea  of  a  night  in  the  woods  J 

We  had  soon  launched  and  loaded  our  boat,  and, 
leaving  our  fire  blazing,  were  off  again  before  breakfast. 
The  lumberers  rarely  trouble  themselves  to  put  out  their 
fires,  such  is  the  dampness  of  the  primitive  forest ;  and 
this  is  one  cause,  no  doubt,  of  the  frequent  fires  in 
Maine,  of  which  we  hear  so  much  on  smoky  days  in 
Massachusetts.  The  forests  are  held  cheap  after  the 
white  pine  has  been  culled  out ;  and  the  explorers  and 
hunters  pray  for  rain  only  to  clear. the  atmosphere  of 
smoke.  The  woods  were  so  wet  to-day,  however,  that 
there  was  no  danger  of  our  fire  spreading.  After  poling 
up  half  a  mile  of  river,  or  thoroughfare,  we  rowed  a  mile 
across  the  foot  of  Pamadumcook  Lake,  which  is  the 
name  given  on  the  map  to  this  whole  chain  of  lakes,  as 


KTAADN.  41 

if  there  was  but  one,  though  they  are,  in  each  instance, 
distinctly  separated  by  a  reach  of  the  river,  with  its  nar- 
row and  rocky  channel  and  its  rapids.  This  lake,  which 
is  one  of  the  largest,  stretched  northwest  ten  miles,  to 
hills  and  mountains  in  the  distance.  McCauslin  pointed 
to  some  distant,  and  as  yet  inaccessible,  forests  of  white 
pine,  on  the  sides  of  a  mountain  in  that  direction.  The 
Joe  Merry  Lakes,  which  lay  between  us  and  Moose- 
head,  on  the  west,  were  recently,  if  they  are  not  still, 
"  surrounded  by  some  of  the  best  timbered  land  in  the 
State."  By  another  thoroughfare  we  passed  into  Deep 
Cove,  a  part  of  the  same  lake,  which  makes  up  two 
miles,  toward  the  northeast,  and  rowing  two  miles  across 
this,  by  another  short  thoroughfare,  entered  Ambejijis 
Lake. 

At  the  entrance  to  a  lake  we  sometimes  observed 
what  is  technically  called  "  fencing  stuff,"  or  the  unhewn 
timbers  of  which  booms  are  formed,  either  secured  to- 
gether in  the  water,  or  laid  up  on  the  rocks  and  lashed 
to  trees,  for  spring  use.  But  it  was  always  startling  to 
discover  so  plain  a  trail  of  civilized  man  there.  I  re- 
member that  I  was  strangely  affected,  when  we  were 
returning,  by  the  sight  of  a  ring-bolt  well  drilled  into  a 
rock,  and  fastened  with  lead,  at  the  head  of  this  solitary 
Ambejijis  Lake. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  driving  logs  must  be  an  ex- 
citing as  well  as  arduous  and  dangerous  business.     All 
winter  long  the  logger  goes  on  piling  up  the  trees  which 
he  has  trimmed  and  hauled  in  some  dry  ravine  at  the 
head  of  a  stream,  and  then  in  the  spring  he  stands  on 
the  bank  and  whistles  for  Rain  and  Thaw,  ready  toi 
wring  the  perspiration  out  of  his  shirt  to  swell  the  tide,  ( 
till  suddenly,  with  a  whoop  and  halloo  from  him,  shut- 


42  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

ting  his  eyes,  as  if  to  bid  farewell  to  the  existing  state  of 
things,  a  fair  proportion  of  his  winter's  work  goes  scram- 
bling down  the  country,  followed  by  his  faithful  dogs, 
Thaw  and  Rain  and  Freshet  and  Wind,  the  whole  pack 
in  full  cry,  toward  the  Orono  Mills.  Every  log  is 
marked  with  the  owner's  name,  cut  in  the  sapwood  with 
an  axe  or  bored  with  an  auger,  so  deep  as  not  to  be 
worn  off  in  the  driving,  and  yet  not  so  as  to  injure  the 
timber ;  and  it  requires  considerable  ingenuity  to  invent 
new  and  simple  marks  where  there  are  so  many  owners. 
They  have  quite  an  alphabet  of  their  own,  which  only 
the  practised  can  read.  One  of  my  companions  read  off 
from  his  memorandum-book  some  marks  of  his  own  logs, 
among  which  there  were  crosses,  belts,  crow's  feet,  gir- 
dles, &c.,  as,  "  Y  —  girdle  —  crow-foot,"  and  various 
other  devices.  When  the  logs  have  run  the  gauntlet  of 
innumerable  rapids  and  falls,  each  on  its  own  account, 
with  more  or  less  jamming  and  bruising,  those  bearing 
various  owners'  marks  being~mixed  up  together,  —  since 
all  must  take  advantage  of  the  same  freshet, — they  are  col- 
lected together  at  the  heads  of  the  lakes,  and  surrounded 
by  a  boom  fence  of  floating  logs,  to  prevent  their  being 
dispersed  by  the  wind,  and  are  thus  towed  altogether, 
like  a  flock  of  sheep,  across  the  lake,  where  there  is  no 
current,  by  a  windlass,  or  boom-head,  such  as  we  some- 
times saw  standing  on  an  island  or  head-land,  and,  if 
circumstances  permit,  with  the  aid  of  sails  and  oars. 
Sometimes,  notwithstanding,  the  logs  are  dispersed  over 
many  miles  of  lake  surface  in  a  few  hours  by  winds  and 
freshets,  and  thrown  up  on  distant  shores,  where  the 
driver  can  pick  up  only  one  or  two  at  a  time,  and  re- 
turn with  them  to  the  thoroughfare ;  and  before  he  gets 
his  flock  well  through  Ambejijis  or  Pamadumcook,  he 


KTAADN.  43 

makes  many  a  wet  and  uncomfortable  camp  on  the 
shore.  He  must  be  able  to  navigate  a  log  as  if  it  were 
a  canoe,  and  be  as  indifferent  to  cold  and  wet  as  a  musk- 
rat.  He  uses  a  few  efficient  tools,  —  a  lever  commonly 
of  rock-maple,  six  or  seven  feet  long,  with  a  stout  spike 
in  it,  strongly  feruled  on,  and  a  long  spike-pole,  with 
a  screw  at  the  end  of  the  spike  to  make  it  hold.  The 
boys  along  shore  learn  to  walk  on  floating  logs  as  city 
boys  on  sidewalks.  Sometimes  the  logs  are  thrown  up 
on  rocks  in  such  positions  as  to  be  irrecoverable  but 
by  another  freshet  as  higji,  or  they  jam  together  at 
rapids  and  falls,  and  accumulate  in  vast  piles,  which  the 
driver  must  start  at  the  risk  of  his  life.  Such  is  the 
lumber  business,  which  depends  on  many  accidents,  as 
the  early  freezing  of  the  rivers,  that  the  teams  may  get 
up  in  season,  a  sufficient  freshet  in  the  spring,  to  fetch 
the  logs  down,  and  many  others.*  I  quote  MicHaux  on 
Lumbering  on  the  Kennebec,  then  the  source  of  the 
best  white-pine  lumber  carried  to  England.  "  The  per- 
sons engaged  in  this  branch  of  industry  are  generally  emi- 
grants from  New  Hampshire In  the  summer  they 

unite  in  small  companies,  and  traverse  these  vast  soli- 
tudes in  every  direction,  to  ascertain  the  places  in  which 
the  pines  abound.  After  cutting  the  grass  and  converting 
it  into  hay  for  the  nourishment  of  the  cattle  to  be  em- 
ployed in  their  labor,  they  return  home.  In  the  begin- 
ning of  the  winter  they  enter  the  forests  again,  establish 

*  "  A  steady  current  or  pitch  of  water  is  preferable  to  one  either 
rising  or  diminishing  ;  as,  when  rising  rapidly,  the  water  at  the  mid- 
dle of  the  river  is  considerably  higher  than  at  the  shores,  —  so  much 
so  as  to  be  distinctly  perceived  by  the  eye  of  a  spectator  on  the 
banks,  presenting  an  appearance  like  a  turnpike  road.  The  lumber, 
therefore,  is  always  sure  to  incline  from  the  centre  of  the  channel 
toward  either  shore."  —  Springer. 


44  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

themselves  in  huts  covered  with  the  bark  of  the  canoe- 
birch,  or  the  arbor-vitae ;  and,  though  the  cold  is  so 
intense  that  the  mercury  sometimes  remains  for  several 
weeks  from  40°  to  50°  [Fahr.]  below  the  point  of  con- 
gelation, they  persevere,  with  unabated  courage,  in  their 
work."  According  to  Springer,  the  company  consists  of 
choppers,  swampers,  —  who  make  roads,  —  barker  and 
loader,  teamster,  and  cook.  "  When  the  trees  are  felled, 
they  cut  them  into  logs  from  fourteen  to  eighteen  feet  long, 
and,  by  means  of  their  cattle,  which  they  employ  with 
great  dexterity,  drag  them  to  the  river,  and  after  stamp- 
ing on  them  a  mark  of  property,  roll  them  on  its  frozen 
bosom.  At  the  breaking  of  the  ice,  in  the  spring,  they 

float  down  with  the  current The  logs  that  are  not 

drawn  the  first  year,"  adds  Michaux,  "  are  attacked  by 
large  worms,  which  form  holes  about  two  lines  in  diam- 
eter, in  every  direction ;  but,  if  stripped  of  their  bark, 
they  will  remain  uninjured  for  thirty  years." 

Ambejijis,  this  quiet  Sunday  morning,  struck  me  as 
the  most  beautiful  lake  we  had  seen.  It  is  said  to  be 
one  of  the  deepest.  We  had  the  fairest  view  of  Joe 
Merry,  Double  Top,  and  Ktaadn,  from  its  surface.  The 
summit  of  the  latter  had  a  singularly  flat,  table-land  ap- 
pearance, like  a  short  highway,  where  a  demigod  might 
be  let  down  to  take  a  turn  or  two  in  an  afternoon,  to 
settle  his  dinner.  We  rowed  a  mile  and  a  half  to  near 
the  head  of  the  lake,  and,  pushing  through  a  field  of  lily- 
pads,  landed,  to  cook  our  breakfast,  by  the  side  of  a  large 
rock,  known  to  McCauslin.  Our  breakfast  consisted  of 
tea,  with  hard  bread  and  pork,  and  fried  salmon,  which 
we  ate  with  forks  neatly  whittled  from  alder-twigs,  which 
grew  there,  off  strips  of  birch-bark  for  plates.  The  tea 
was  black  tea,  without  milk  to  color  or  sugar  to  sweeten 


KTAADN.  45 

it,  and  two  tin  dippers  were  our  tea-cups.  This  bever- 
age is  as  indispensable  to  the  loggers  as  to  any  gossiping 
old  women  in  the  land,  and  they,  no  doubt,  derive  great 
comfort  from  it.  Here  was  the  site  of  an  old  logger's 
camp,  remembered  by  McCauslin,  now  overgrown  with 
weeds  and  bushes.  In  the  midst  of  a  dense  underwood 
we  noticed  a  whole  brick,  on  a  rock,  in  a  small  run, 
clean  and  red  and  square  as  in  a  brick-yard,  which  had 
been  brought  thus  far  formerly  for  tamping.  Some  of 
us  afterward  regretted  that  we  had  not  carried  this  on 
with  us  to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  to  be  left  there  for  our 
mark.  It  would  certainly  have  been  a  simple  evidence  of 
civilized  man.  McCauslin  said,  that  large  wooden  crosses, 
made  of  oak,  still  sound,  were  sometimes  found  standing 
in  this  wilderness,  which  were  set  up  by  the  first  Catholic 
missionaries  who  came  through  to  the  Kennebec. 

In  the  next  nine  miles,  which  were  the  extent  of  our 
voyage,  and  which  it  took  us  the  rest  of  the  day  to  get 
over,  we  rowed  across  several  small  lakes,  poled  up  nu- 
merous rapids  and  thoroughfares,  and  carried  over  four 
portages.  I  will  give  the  names  and  distances,  for  the 
benefit  of  future  tourists.  First,  after  leaving  Ambejijis 
Lake,  we  had  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  rapids  to  the  port- 
age, or  carry  of  ninety  rods  around  Ambejijis  Falls ; 
then  a  mile  and  a  half  through  Passamagamet  Lake, 
which  is  narrow  and  river-like,  to  the  falls  of  the  same 
name,  —  Ambejijis  stream  coming  in  on  the  right ;  then 
two  miles  through  Katepskonegan  Lake  to  the  portage 
of  ninety  rods  around  Katepskonegan  Falls,  which  name 
signifies  "  carrying-place,"  —  Passamagamet  stream  com- 
ing in  on  the  left ;  then  three  miles  through  Pockwocko- 
mus  Lake,  a  slight  expansion  of  the  river,  to  the  port- 
age of  forty  rods  around  the  falls  of  the  same  name,  — 


46  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Katepskonegan  stream  coming  in  on  the  left ;  then  three 
quarters  of  a  mile  through  Aboljacarmegus  Lake,  simi- 
lar to  the  last,  to  the  portage  of  forty  rods  around  the 
falls  of  the  same  name ;  then  half  a  mile  of  rapid  water 
to  the  Sowadnehunk  dead-water,  and  the  Aboljacknagesic 
stream. 

This  is  generally  the  order  of  names  as  you  ascend  the 
river:  First,  the  lake,  or,  if  there  is  no  expansion,  the 
dead-water;  then  the  falls;  then  the  stream  emptying 
into  the  lake,  or  river  above,  all  of  the  same  name.  First 
we  came  to  Passamagamet  Lake,  then  to  Passamagamet 
Falls,  then  to  Passamagamet  stream,  emptying  in.  This 
order  and  identity  of  names,  it  will  be  perceived,  is  quite 
philosophical,  since  the  dead-water  or  lake  is  always  at 
least  partially  produced  by  the  stream  emptying  in  above ; 
and  the  first  fall  below,  which  is  the  outlet  of  that  lake, 
and  where  that  tributary  water  makes  its  first  plunge, 
also  naturally  bears  the  same  name. 

At  the  portage  around  Ambejijis  Falls  I  observed  a 
pork-barrel  on  the  shore,  with  a  hole  eight  or  nine  inches 
square  cut  in  one  side,  which  was  set  against  an  upright 
rock;  but  the  bears,  without  turning  or  upsetting  the 
barrel,  had  gnawed  a  hole  in  the  opposite  side,  which 
looked  exactly  like  an  enormous  rat  hole,  big  enough  to 
put  their  heads  in;  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  barrel  were 
still  left  a  few  mangled  and  slabbered  slices  of  pork.  It 
is  usual  for  the  lumberers  to  leave  such  supplies  as  they 
cannot  conveniently  carry  along  with  them  at  carries  or 
camps,  to  which  the  next  comers  do  not  scruple  to  help 
themselves,  they  being  the  property,  commonly,  not  of 
an  individual,  but  a  company,  who  can  afford  to  deal 
liberally. 

I  will  describe  particularly  how  we  got  over  some  of 


KTAADN.  47 

these  portages  and  rapids,  in  order  that  the  reader  may 
get  an  idea  of  the  boatman's  life.  At  Ambejijis  Falls, 
for  instance,  there  was  the  roughest  path  imaginable  cut 
through  the  woods ;  at  first  up  hill,  at  an  angle  of  nearly 
forty-five  degrees,  over  rocks  and  logs  without  end.  This 
was  the  manner  of  the  portage.  We  first  carried  over 
our  baggage,  and  deposited  it  on  the  shore  at  the  other 
end;  then  returning  to  the  batteau,  we  dragged  it  up  the 
hill  by  the  painter,  and  onward,  with  frequent  pauses, 
over  half  the  portage.  But  this  was  a  bungling  way, 
and  would  soon  have  worn  out  the  boat.  Commonly, 
three  men  walk  over  with  a  batteau  weighing  from  three 
to  five  or  six  hundred  pounds  on  their  heads  and  shoul- 
ders, the  tallest  standing  under  the  middle  of  the  boat, 
which  is  turned  over,  and  one  at  each  end,  or  else  there 
are  two  at  the  bows.  More  cannot  well  take  hold  at 
once.  But  this  requires  some  practice,  as  well  as  strength, 
and  is  in  any  case  extremely  laborious,  and  wearing  to 
the  constitution,  to  follow.  We  were,  on  the  whole, 
rather  an  invalid  party,  and  could  render  our  boatmen 
but  little  assistance.  Our  two  men  at  length  took  the 
batteau  upon  their  shoulders,  and,  while  two  of  us  steadied 
it,  to  prevent  it  from  rocking  and  wearing  into  their 
shoulders,  on  which  they  placed  their  hats  folded,  walked 
bravely  over  the  remaining  distance,  with  two  or  three 
pauses.  In  the  same  manner  they  accomplished  the 
other  portages.  With  this  crushing  weight  they  must 
climb  and  stumble  along  over  fallen  trees  and  slippery 
rocks  of  all  sizes,  where  those  who  walked  by  the  sides 
were  continually  brushed  off,  such  was  the  narrowness 
of  the  path.  But  we  were  fortunate  not  to  have  to  cut 
our  path  in  the  first  place.  Before  we  launched  our 
boat,  we  scraped  the  bottom  smooth  again,  with  our 


48  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

knives,  where  it  had  rubbed  on  the  rocks,  to  save  fric- 
tion. 

To  avoid  the  difficulties  of  the  portage,  our  men  deter- 
mined to  "  warp  up  "  the  Passamagamet  Falls ;  so  while 
the  rest  walked  over  the  portage  with  the  baggage,  I  re- 
mained in  the  batteau,  to  assist  in  warping  up.  We 
were  soon  in  the  midst  of  the  rapids,  which  were  more 
swift  and  tumultuous  than  any  we  had  poled  up,  and  had 
turned  to  the  side  of  the  stream  for  the  purpose  of  warp- 
ing, when  the  boatmen,  who  felt  some  pride  in  their  skill, 
and  were  ambitious  to  do  something  more  than  usual,  for 
my  benefit,  as  I  surmised,  took  one  more  view  of  the 
rapids,  or  rather  the-  falls ;  and,  in  answer  to  our  ques- 
tion, whether  we  couldn't  get  up  there,  the  other  an- 
swered that  he  guessed  he  'd  try  it.  So  we  pushed  again 
into  the  midst  of  the  stream,  and  began  to  struggle  with 
the  current.  I'  sat  in  the  middle  of  the  boat  to  trim  it, 
moving  slightly  to  the  right  or  left  as  it  grazed  a  rock. 
With  an  uncertain  and  wavering  motion  we  wound  and 
bolted  our  way  up,  until  the  bow  was  actually  raised  two 
feet  above  the  stern  at  the  steepest  pitch ;  and  then,  when 
everything  depended  upon  his  exertions,  the  bowman's 
pole  snapped  in  two ;  but  before  he  had  time  to  take  the 
spare  one,  which  I  reached  him,  he  had  saved  himself 
with  the  fragment  upon  a  rock ;  and  so  we  got  up  by  a 
hair's  breadth ;  and  Uncle  George  exclaimed  that  that 
was  never  done  before,  and  he  had  not  tried  it  if  he  had 
not  known  whom  he  had  got  in  the  bow,  nor  he  in  the 
bow,  if  he  had  not  known  him  in  the  stern.  At  this 
place  there  was  a  regular  portage  cut  through  the  woods, 
and  our  boatmen  had  never  known  a  batteau  to  ascend 
the  falls.  As  near  as  I  can  remember,  there  was  a  per- 
pendicular fall  here,  at  the  worst  place  of  the  whole 


KTAADN.  49 

Penobscot  River,  two  or  three  feet  at  least.  I  could  not 
sufficiently  admire  the  skill  and  coolness  with  which  they 
performed  this  feat,  never  speaking  to  each  other.  The 
bowman,  not  looking  behind,  but  knowing  exactly  what 
the  other  is  about,  works  as  if  he  worked  alone.  Now 
sounding  in  vain  for  a  bottom  in  fifteen  feet  of  water, 
while  the  boat  falls  back  several  rods,  held  straight  only 
with  the  greatest  skill  and  exertion ;  or,  while  the  stern- 
man  obstinately  holds  his  ground,  like  a  turtle,  the  bow- 
man springs  from  side  to  side  with  wonderful  suppleness 
and  dexterity,  scanning  the  rapids  and  the  rocks  with  a 
thousand  eyes ;  and  now,  having  got  a  bite  at  last,  with 
a  lusty  shove,  which  makes  his  pole  bend  and  quiver,  and 
the  whole  boat  tremble,  he  gains  a  few  feet  upon  the 
river.  To  add  to  the  danger,  the  poles  are  liable  at  any 
time  to  be  caught  between  the  rocks,  and  wrenched  out 
of  their  hands,  leaving  them  at  the  mercy  of  the  rapids, 
—  the  rocks,  as  it  were,  lying  in  wait,  like  so  many  alli- 
gators, to  catch  them  in  their  teeth,  and  jerk  them  from 
your  hands,  before  you  have  stolen  an  effectual  shove 
against  their  palates.  The  pole  is  set  close  to  the  boat, 
and  the  prow  is  made  to  overshoot^  and  just  turn  the 
corners  of  the  rocks,  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  rapids. 
Nothing  but  the  length  and  lightness,  and  the  slight 
draught  of  the  batteau,  enables  them  to  make  any  head- 
way. The  bowman  must  quickly  choose  his  course; 
there  is  no  time  to  deliberate.  Frequently  the  boat  is 
shoved  between  rocks  where  both  sides  touch,  and  the 
waters  on  either  hand  are  a  perfect  maelstrom. 

Half  a  mile  above  this,  two  of  us  tried  our  hands  at 
poling  up  a  slight  rapid ;  and  we  were  just  surmounting 
the  last  difficulty  when  an  unlucky  rock  confounded  our 
calculations ;  and  while  the  batteau  was  sweeping  round 

3  D 


50  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

irrecoverably  amid  the  whirlpool,  we  were  obliged  to 
resign  the  poles  to  more  skilful  hands. 

Katepskonegan  is  one  of  the  shallowest  and  weediest 
of  the  lakes,  and  looked  as  if  it  might  abound  in  pick- 
erel. The  falls  of  the  same  name,  where  we  stopped  to 
dine,  are  considerable  and  quite  picturesque.  Here  Un- 
cle George  had  seen  trout  caught  by  the  barrelful;  but 
they  would  not  rise  to  our  bait  at  this  hour.  Half-way 
over  this  carry,  thus  far  in  the  Maine  wilderness  on  its 
way.  to  the  Provinces,  we  noticed  a  large,  flaming,  Oak 
Hall  hand-bill,  about  two  feet  long,  wrapped  round  the 
trunk  of  a  pine,  from  which  the  bark  had  been  stript, 
and  to  which  it  was  fast  glued  by  the  pitch.  This  should 
be  recorded  among  the  advantages  of  this  mode  of  ad- 
vertising, that  so,  possibly,  even  the  bears  and  wolves, 
moose,  deer,  otter,  and  beaver,  not  to  mention  the  Indian, 
may  learn  where  they  can  fit  themselves  according  to  the 
latest  fashion,  or,  at  least,  recover  some  of  their  own  lost 
garments.  We  christened  this,  the  Oak  Hall  carry. 

The  forenoon  was  as  serene  and  placid  on  this  wild 
stream  in  the  woods,  as  we  are  apt  to  imagine  that  Sun- 
day in  summer  usually  is  in  Massachusetts.  We  were 
occasionally  startled  by  the  scream  of  a  bald-eagle,  sail- 
ing over  the  stream  in  front  of  our  batteau ;  or  of  the 
fish-hawks,  on  whom  he  levies  his  contributions.  There 
were,  at  intervals,  small  meadows  of  a  few  acres  on  the 
sides  of  the  stream,  waving  with  uncut  grass,  which  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  our  boatmen,  who  regretted  that 
they  were  not  nearer  to  their  clearings,  and  calculated 
how  many  stacks  they  might  cut.  Two  or  three  men 
sometimes  spend  the  summer  by  themselves,  cutting  the 
grass  in  these  meadows,  to  sell  to  the  loggers  in  the  win- 
ter, since  it  will  fetch  a  higher  price  on  the  spot  than  in 


KTAADN.  51 

any  market  in  the  State.  On  a  small  isle,  covered  with 
this  kind  of  rush,  or  cut  grass,  on  which  we  landed,  to  con- 
sult about  our  further  course,  we  noticed  the  recent  track 
of  a  moose,  a  large,  roundish  hole,  in  the  soft  wet  ground, 
evincing  the  great  size  and  weight  of  the  animal  that 
made  it.  They  are  fond  of  the  water,  and  visit  all  these 
island-meadows,  swimming  as  easily  from  island  to  island 
as  they  make  their  way  through  the  thickets  on  land. 
Now  and  then  we  passed  what  McCauslin  called  a  poke- 
logan,  an  Indian  term  for  what  the  drivers  might  have 
reason  to  call  a  poke-logs-in,  an  inlet  that  leads  nowhere. 
If  you  get  in,  you  have  got  to  get  out  again  the  same 
way.  These,  and  the  frequent  "  run-rounds  "  which  come 
into  the  river  again,  would  embarrass  an  inexperienced 
voyager  not  a  little. 

The  carry  around  Pockwockomus  Falls  was  exceed- 
ingly rough  and  rocky,  the  batteau  having  to  be  lifted 
directly  from  the  water  up  four  or  five  feet  on  to  a  rock, 
and  launched  again  down  a  similar  bank.  The  rocks  on 
this  portage  were  covered  with  the  dents  made  by  the 
spikes  in  the  lumberers'  boots  while  staggering  over 
under  the  weight  of  their  batteaux  ;  and  you  could  see 
where  the  surface  of  some  large  rocks  on  which  they 
had  rested  their  batteaux  was  worn  quite  smooth  with 
use.  As  it  was,  we  had  carried  over  but  half  the  usual 
portage  at  this  place  for  this  stage  of  the  water,  and 
launched  our  boat  in  the  smooth  wave  just  curving  to 
the  fall,  prepared  to  struggle  with  the  most  violent  rapid 
we  had  to  encounter.  The  rest  of  the  party  walked  over 
the  remainder  of  the  portage,  while  I  remained  with  the 
boatmen  to  assist  in  warping  up.  One  had  to  hold  the 
boat  while  the  others  got  in  to  prevent  it  from  going 
over  the  falls.  When  we  had  pushed  up  the  rapids  as 


52  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

far  as  possible,  keeping  close  to  the  shore,  Tom  seized 
the  painter  and  leaped  out  upon  a  rock  just  visible  in 
the  water,  but  he  lost  his  footing,  notwithstanding  his 
spiked  boots,  and  was  instantly  amid  the  rapids ;  but 
recovering  himself  by  good  luck,  and  reaching  another 
rock,  he  passed  the  painter  to  me,  who  had  followed 
him,  and  took  his  place  again  in  the  bows.  Leaping 
from  rock  to  rock  in  the  shoal  water,  close  to  the  shore, 
and  now  and  then  getting  a  bite  with  the  rope  round  an 
upright  one,  I  held  the  boat  while  one  reset  his  pole, 
and  then  all  three  forced  it  upward  against  any  rapid. 
This  was  "warping  up."  When  a  part  of  us  walked 
round  at  such  a  place,  we  generally  took  the  precaution 
to  take  out  the  most  valuable  part  of  the  baggage,  for 
fear  of  being  swamped. 

As  we  poled  up  a  swift  rapid  for  half  a  mile  above 
Aboljacarmegus  Falls,  some  of  the  party  read  their  own 
marks  on  the  huge  logs  which  lay  piled  up  high  and  dry 
on  the  rocks  on  either  hand,  the  relics  probably  of  a  jam 
which  hadv  taken  place  here  in  the  Great  Freshet  in  the 
spring.  Many  of  these  would  have  to  wait  for  another 
great  freshet,  perchance,  if  they  lasted  so  long,  before 
they  could  be  got  off.  It  was  singular  enough  to  meet 
with  property  of  theirs  which  they  had  never  seen,  and 
where  they  had  never  been  before,  thus  detained  by 
freshets  and  rocks  when  on  its  way  to  them.  Metliinks 
that  must  be  where  all  my  property  lies,  cast  up  on  the 
rocks  on  some  distant  and  unexplored  stream,  and  wait- 
ing for  an  unheard-of  freshet  to  fetch  it  down.  O  make 
haste,  ye  gods,  with  your  winds  and  rains,  and  start  the 
jam  before  it  rots ! 

The  last  half-mile  carried  us  to  the  Sowadnehunk 
dead-water,  so  called  from  the  stream  of  the  same  name, 


KTAADN.  53 

• 

signifying  "running  between  mountains,"  an  important 
tributary  which  comes  in  a  mile  above.  Here  we  de- 
cided to  camp,  about  twenty  miles  from  the  Dam,  at  the 
mouth  of  Murch  Brook  and  the  Aboljacknagesic,  moun- 
tain streams,  broad  off  from  Ktaadn,  and  about  a  dozen 
miles  from  its  summit ;  having  made  fifteen  miles  this 
day. 

We  had  been  told  by  McCauslin  that  we  should  here 
find  trout  enough  :  so,  while  some  prepared  the  camp, 
the  rest  fell  to  fishing.  Seizing  the  birch-poles  which 
some  party  of  Indians,  or  white  hunters,  had  left  on  the 
shore,  and  baiting  our  hooks  with  pork,  and  with  trout, 
as  soon  as  they  were  caught,  we  cast  our  lines  into  the 
mouth  of  the  Aboljacknagesic,  a  clear,  swift,  shallow 
stream,  which  came  in  from  Ktaadn.  Instantly  a  shoal 
of  white  chivin  (Leucisci  pulchelli),  silvery  roaches, 
cousin-trout,  or  what  not,  large  and  small,  prowling 
thereabouts,  fell  upon  our  bait,  and  one  after  another 
were  landed  amidst  the  bushes.  Anon  their  cousins, 
the  true  trout,  took  their  turn,  and  alternately  the 
speckled  trout,  and  the  silvery  roaches,  swallowed  the 
bait  as  fast  as  we  could  throw  in ;  and  the  finest  speci- 
mens of  both  that  I  have  ever  seen,  the  largest  one 
weighing  three  pounds,  were  heaved  upon  the  shore, 
though  at  first  in  vain,  to  wriggle  down  into  the  water 
again,  for  we  stood  in  the  boat ;  but  soon  we  learned  to 
remedy  this  evil :  for  one,  who  had  lost  his  hook,  stood 
on  shore  to  catch  them  as  they  fell  in  a  perfect  shower 
around  him,  —  sometimes,  wet  and  slippery,  full  in  his 
face  and  bosom,  as  his  arms  were  outstretched  to  receive 
them.  While  yet  alive,  before  their  tints  had  faded, 
they  glistened  like  the  fairest  flowers,  the  product  of 
primitive  rivers ;  and  he  could  hardly  trust  his  senses, 


54  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

• 

as  he  stood  over  them,  that  these  jewels  should  have 
swam  away  in  that  Aboljacknagesic  water  for  so  long, 
so  many  dark  ages ;  —  these  bright  fluviatile  flowers, 
seen  of  Indians  only,  made  beautiful,  the  Lord  only 
knows  why,  to  swim  there  !  I  could  understand  better, 
for  this,  the  truth  of  mythology,  the  fables  of  Proteus, 
and  all  those  beautiful  sea-monsters,  —  how  all  history, 
indeed,  put  to  a  terrestrial  use,  is  mere  history;  but 
put  to  a  celestial,  is  mythology  always. 

But  there  is  the  rough  voice  of  Uncle  George,  who 
commands  at  the  frying-pan,  to  send  over  what  you  've 
got,  and  then  you  may  stay  till  morning.  The  pork 
sizzles,  and  cries  for  fish.  Luckily  for  the  foolish  race, 
and  this  particularly  foolish  generation  of  trout,  the 
night  shut  down  at  last,  not  a  little  deepened  by  the 
dark  side  of  Ktaadn,  which,  like  a  permanent  shadow, 
reared  itself  from  the  eastern  bank.  Lescarbot,  writing 
in  1609,  tells  us  that  the  Sieur  Champdore,  who,  with 
one  of  the  people  of  the  Sieur  de  Monts,  ascended  some 
fifty  leagues  up  the  St.  John  in  1608,  found  the  fish  so 
plenty,  "  qu'en  mettant  la  chaudiere  sur  le  feu  ils  en  avoi- 
ent  pris  suffisamment  pour  eux  disner  avant  que  1'eau  fust 
chaude."  Their  descendants  here  are  no  less  numerous. 
So  we  accompanied  Tom  into  the  woods  to  cut  cedar- 
twigs  for  our  bed.  While  he  went  ahead  with  the  axe, 
and  lopt  off  the  smallest  twigs  of  the  flat-leaved  cedar, 
the  arbor-vitae  of  the  gardens,  we  gathered  them  up, 
and  returned  with  them  to  the  boat,  until  it  was  loaded. 
Our  bed  was  made  with  as  much  care  and  skill  as  a 
roof  is  shingled ;  beginning  at  the  foot,  and  laying  the 
twig  end  of  the  cedar  upward,  we  advanced  to  the 
head,  a  course  at  a  time,  thus  successively  covering  the 
stub-ends,  and  producing  a  soft  and  level  bed.  For  us 


KTAADN.  55 

six  it  was  about  ten  feet  long  by  six  in  breadth.  This 
time  we  lay  under  our  tent,  having  pitched  it  more  pru- 
dently with  reference  to  the  wind  and  the  flame,  and  the 
•  usual  huge  fire  blazed  in  front.  Supper  was  eaten  off 
a  large  log,  which  some  freshet  had  thrown  up.  This 
night  we  had  a  dish  of  arbor-vitas,  or  cedar-tea,  which  the 
lumberer  sometimes  uses  when  other  herbs  fail,  — 

"  A  quart  of  arbor-vitae, 
To  make  him  strong  and  mighty," 

but  I  had  no  wish  to  repeat  the  experiment.     It  had 

too  medicinal  a  taste  for  my  palate.     There  was  the 

skeleton  of  a  moose  here,  whose  bones  some  Indian 

j    hunters  had  picked  on  this  very  spot. 

In  the  night  I  dreamed  of  trout-fishing ;  and,  when  at 
length  I  awoke,  it  seemed  a  fable  that  this  painted  fish 
swam  there  so  near  my  couch,  and  rose  to  our  hooks  the 
last  evening,  and  I  doubted  if  I  had  not  dreamed  it  all. 
So  I  arose  before  dawn  to  test  its  truth,  while  my  com- 
panions were  still  sleeping.  There  stood  Ktaadn  with 
distinct  and  cloudless  outline  in  the  moonlight ;  and  the 
rippling  of  the  rapids  was  the  only  sound  to  break  the 
stillness.  Standing  on  the  shore,  I  once  more  cast  my 
line  into  the  stream,  and  found  the  dream  to  be  real  and 
the  fable  true.  The  speckled  trout  and  silvery  roach, 
like  flying-fish,  sped  swiftly  through  the  moonlight  air, 
describing  bright  arcs  on  the  dark  side  of  Ktaadn,  until 
moonlight,  now  fading  into  daylight,  brought  satiety  to 
my  mind,  and  the  minds  of  my  companions,  who  had 
joined  me. 

By  six  o'clock,  having  mounted  our  packs  and  a  good 
blanketful  of  trout,  ready  dressed,  and  swung  up  such 
baggage  and  provision  as  we  wished  to  leave  behind,  upon 
the  tops  of  saplings,  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  bears,  we 


56  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

started  for  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  distant,  as  Uncle 
George  said  the  boatmen  called  it,  about  four  miles,  but 
as  I  judged,  and  as  it  proved,  nearer  fourteen.  He  had 
never  been  any  nearer  the  mountain  than  this,  and  there 
was  not  the  slightest  trace  of  man  to  guide  us  farther  in 
this  direction.  At  first,  pushing  a  few  rods  up  the  Abol- 
jacknagesic,  or  "open-land  stream,"  we  fastened  our 
batteau  to  a  tree,  and  travelled  up  the  north  side,  through 
burnt  lands,  now  partially  overgrown  with  young  aspens, 
and  other  shrubbery ;  but  soon,  recrossing  this  stream, 
where  it  was  about  fifty  or  sixty  feet  wide,  upon  a  jam 
of  logs  and  rocks,  —  and  you  could  cross  it  by  this  means 
almost  anywhere,  —  we  struck  at  once  for  the  highest 
peak,  over  a  mile  or  more  of  comparatively  open  land,  still 
very  gradually  ascending  the  while.  Here  it  fell  to  my 
lot,  as  the  oldest  mountain-climber,  to  take  the  lead.  So, 
scanning  the  woody  side  of  the  mountain,  which  lay  still 
at  an  indefinite  distance,  stretched  out  some  seven  or 
eight  miles  in  length  before  us,  we  determined  to  steer 
directly  for  the  base  of  the  highest  peak,  leaving  a  large 
slide,  by  which,  as  I  have  since  learned,  some  of  our 
predecessors  ascended,  on  our  left.  This  course  would 
lead  us  parallel  to  a  dark  seam  in  the  forest,  which 
marked  the  bed  of  a  torrent,  and  over  a  slight  spur, 
which  extended  southward  from  the  main  mountain,  from 
whose  bare  summit  we  could  get  an  outlook  over  the 
country,  and  climb  directly  up  the  peak,  which  would 
then  be  close  at  hand.  Seen  from  this  point,  a  bare 
ridge  at  the  extremity  of  the  open  land,  Ktaadn  present- 
ed a  different  aspect  from  any  mountain  I  have  seen, 
there  being  a  greater  proportion  of  naked  rock  rising 
abruptly  from  the  forest ;  and  we  looked  up  at  this  blue 
barrier  as  if  it  were  some  fragment  of  a  wall  which 


KTAADN.  57 

anciently  bounded  the  earth  in  that  direction.  Setting 
the  compass  for  a  northeast  course,  which  was  the  bear- 
ing of  the  southern  base  of  the  highest  peak,  we  were 
soon  buried  in  the  woods. 

We  soon  began  to  meet  with  traces  of  bears  and 
moose,  and  those  of  rabbits  were  everywhere  visible. 
The  tracks  of  moose,  more  or  less  recent,  to  speak  liter- 
ally, covered  every  square  rod  on  the  sides  of  the  moun- 
tain ;  and  these  animals  are  probably  more  numerous 
there  now  than  ever  before,  being  driven  into  this  wilder- 
ness, from  all  sides,  by  the  settlements.  The  track  of  a 
full-grown  moose  is  like  that  of  a  cow,  or  larger,  and  of 
the  young,  like  that  of  a  calf.  Sometimes  we  found  our- 
selves travelling  in  faint  paths,  which  they  had  made, 
like  cow-paths  in  the  woods,  only  far  more  indistinct, 
being  rather  openings,  affording  imperfect  vistas  through 
the  dense  underwood,  than  trodden  paths;  and  every- 
where the  twigs  had  been  browsed  by  them,  dipt  as 
smoothly  as  if  by  a  knife.  The  bark  of  trees  was  stript 
up  by  them  to  the  height  of  eight  or  nine  feet,  in  long, 
narrow  strips,  an  inch  wide,  still  showing  the  distinct 
marks  of  their  teeth.  We  expected  nothing  less  than  to 
meet  a  herd  of  them  every  moment,  and  our  Nimrod 
held  his  shooting-iron  in  readiness ;  but  we  did  not  go 
out  of  our  way  to  look  for  them,  and,  though  numerous, 
they  are  so  wary  that  the  unskilful  hunter  might  range 
the  forest  a  long  time  before  he  could  get  sight  of  one. 
They  are  sometimes  dangerous  to  encounter,  and  will 
not  turn  out  for  the  hunter,  but  furiously  rush  upon  him 
and  trample  him  to  death,  unless  he  is  lucky  enough  to 
avoid  them  by  dodging  round  a  tree.  The  largest  are 
nearly  as  large  as  a  horse,  and  weigh  sometimes  one  thou- 
sand pounds ;  and  it  is  said  that  they  can  step  over  a  five- 
3* 


58  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

feet  gate  in  their  ordinary  walk.  They  are  described  as 
exceedingly  awkward-looking  animals,  with  their  long  legs 
and  short  bodies,  making  a  ludicrous  figure  when  in  full 
run,  but  making  great  headway  nevertheless.  It  seemed 
a  mystery  to  us  how  they  could  thread  these  woods, 
which  it  required  all  eur  suppleness  to  accomplish, — 
climbing,  stooping,  and  winding,  alternately.  They  are 
said  to  drop  their  long  and  branching  horns,  which 
usually  spread  five  or  six  feet,  on  their  backs,  and  make 
their  way  easily  by  the  weight  of  their  bodies.  Our 
boatmen  said,  but  I  know  not  with  how  much  truth,  that 
their  horns  are  apt  to  be  gnawed  away  by  vermin  while 
they  sleep.  Their  flesh,,  which  is  more  like  beef  than 
venison,  is  common  in  Bangor  market. 

We  had  proceeded  on  thus  seven  or  eight  miles,  till 
about  noon,  with  frequent  pauses  to  refresh  the  weary 
ones,  crossing  a  considerable  mountain  stream,  which  we 
conjectured  to  be  Murch  Brook,  at  whose  mouth  we  had 
camped,  all  the  time  in  woods,  without  having  once  seen 
the  summit,  and  rising  very  gradually,  when  the  boat- 
men, beginning  to  despair  a  little,  and  fearing  that  we 
were  leaving  the  mountain  on  one  side  of  us,  for  they 
had  not  entire  faith  in  the  compass,  McCauslin  climbed  a 
tree,  from  the  top  of  which  he  could  see  the  peak,  when 
it  appeared  that  we  had  not  swerved  from  a  right  line, 
the  compass  down  below  still  ranging  with  his  arm,  which 
pointed  to  the  summit.  By  the  side  of  a  cool  mountain 
rill,  amid  the  woods,  where  the  water  began  to  partake 
of  the  purity  and  transparency  of  the  air,  we  stopped  to 
cook  some  of  our  fishes,  which  we  had  brought  thus  far 
in  order  to  save  our  hard  bread  and  pork,  in  the  use  of 
which  we  had  put  ourselves  on  short  allowance.  "We 
soon  had  a  fire  blazing,  and  stood  around  it,  under  the 


KTAADN.  59 

damp  and  sombre  forest  of  firs  and  birches,  each  with  a 
sharpened  stick,  three  or  four  feet  in  length,  upon  which 
he  had  spitted  his  trout,  or  roach,  previously  well  gashed 
and  salted,  our  sticks  radiating  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel 
from  one  centre,  and  each  crowding  his  particular  fish 
into  the  most  desirable  exposure,  not  with  the  truest  re- 
gard always  to  his  neighbor's  rights.  Thus  we  regaled 
ourselves,  drinking  meanwhile  at  the  spring,  till  one 
man's  pack,  at  least,  was  considerably  lightened,  when 
we  again  took  up  our  line  of  march. 

At  length  we  reached  an  elevation  sufficiently  bare  to 
afford  a  view  of  the  summit,  still  distant  and  blue,  almost 
as  if  retreating  from  us.  A  torrent,  which  proved  to  be 
the  same  we  had  crossed,  was  seen_ tumbling  down  in 
front,  literally  from  out  of  ilia-slpuds.  But  this  glimpse 
at  our  whereabouts  was  soon  lost,  and  we  were  buried  in 
the  woods  again.  The  wood  was  chiefly  yellow  birch, 
spruce,  fir,  mountain-ash,  or  round-wood,  as  the  Maine 
people  call  it,  and  moose-wood.  It  was  the  worst  kind 
of  travelling  ;  sometimes  like  the  densest  scrub-oak 
patches  with  us.  The  cornel,  or  bunch-berries,  were 
very  abundant,  as  well  as  Solomon's  seal  and  moose- 
berries.  Blueberries  were  distributed  along  our  whole 
route  ;  and  in  one  place  the  bushes  were  drooping  with 
the  weight  of  the  fruit,  still  as  fresh  as  ever.  It  was 
the  7th  of  September.  Such  patches  afforded  a  grate- 
ful repast,  and  served  to  bait  the  tired  party  forward. 
When  any  lagged  behind,  the  cry  of  "  blueberries  "  was 
most  effectual  to  bring  them  up.  Even  at  this  elevation 
we  passed  through  a  moose-yard,  formed  by  a  large  flat 
rock,  four  or  five  rods  square,  where  they  tread  down 
the  snow  in  winter.  At  length,  fearing  that  if  we  held 
the  direct  course  to  the  summit,  we  should  not  fiud  any 


60  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

water  near  our  camping-ground,. we  gradually  swerved 
to  the  west,  till,  at  four  o'clock,  we  struck  again  the  tor- 
rent which  I  have  mentioned,  and  here,  in  view  of  the 
summit,  the  weary  party  decided  to  camp  that  night. 

While  my  companions  were  seeking  a  suitable  spot 
for  this  purpose,  I  improved  the  little  daylight  that  was 
left,  in  climbing  the  mountain  alone.  We  were  in  a  deep 
and  narrow  ravine,  sloping  up  to  the  clouds,  at  an  angle 
of  nearly  forty-five  degrees,  and  hemmed  in  by  walls  of 
rock,  which  were  at  first  covered  with  low  trees,  then 
with  impenetrable  thickets  of  scraggy  birches  and  spruce- 
trees,  and  with  moss,  but  at  last  bare  of  all  vegetation 
but  lichens,  and  almost  continually  draped  in  clouds. 
Following  up  the  course  of  the  torrent  which  occupied 
this,  —  and  I  mean  to  lay  some  emphasis  on  this  word 
up,  —  pulling  myself  up  by  the  side  of  perpendicular 
falls  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  by  the  roots  of  firs  and 
birches,  and  then,  perhaps,  walking  a  level  rod  or  two  in 
the  thin  stream,  for  it  took  up  the  whole  road,  ascerrding 
by  huge  steps,  as  it  were,  a  giant's  stairway,  down  which 
a  river  flowed,  I  had  soon  cleared  the  trees,  and  paused 
on  the  successive  shelves,  to  look  back  over  the  country. 
The  torrent  was  from  fifteen  to  thirty  feet  wide,  without 
a  tributary,  and  seemingly  not  diminishing  in  breadth  as 
I  advanced  ;  but  still  it  came  rushing  and  roaring  down, 
with  a  copious  tide,  over  and  amidst  masses  of  bare  rock, 
from  the  very  clouds,  as  though  a  waterspout  had  just 
burst  over  the  mountain.  Leaving  this  at  last,  I  began 
to  work  my  way,  scarcely  less  arduous  than  Satan's  an- 
ciently through  Chaos,  up  the  nearest,  though  not  the 
highest  peak.  At  first  scrambling  on  all  fours  over  the 
tops  of  ancient  black  spruce-trees  (Abies  nigra),  old  as 
the  flood,  from  two  to  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  height,  their 


KTAADN.  61 


tops  flat  and  spreading,  and  their  foliage  blue,  and  nipt 
with  cold,  as  if  for  centuries  they  had  ceased  growing 
upward  against  the  bleak  sky,  the  solid  cold.  I  walked 
some  good  rods  erect  upon  the  tops  of  these  trees,  which 
were  overgrown  with  moss  and  mountain-cranberries. 
It  seemed  that  in  the  course  of  time  they  had  filled  up 
the  intervals  between  the  huge  rocks,  and  the  cold  wind 
had  uniformly  levelled  all  over.  Here  the  principle  of 
vegetation  was  hard  put  to  it.  There  was  apparently 
a  belt  of  this  kind  running  quite  round  the  mountain, 
though,  perhaps,  nowhere  so  remarkable  as  here.  Once, 
slumping  through,  I  looked  down  ten  feet,  into  a  dark 
and  cavernous  region,  and  saw  the  stem  of  a  spruce,  on 
whose  top  I  stood,  as  on  a  mass  of  coarse  basket-work, 
fully  nine  inches  in  diameter,  at  the  ground.  These 
holes  were  bears'  dens,  and  the  bears  were  even  then 
at  home.  This  was  the  sort  of  garden  I  made  my  way 
over,  for  an  eighth  of  a  mile,  at  the  risk,  it  is  true,  of 
treading  on  some  of  the  plants,  not  seeing  any  path 
through  it,  —  certainly  the  most  treacherous  and  porous 
country  I  ever  travelled. 

"  Nigh  foundered  on  he  fares, 
Treading  the  crude  consistence,  half  on  foot, 
Half  flying." 

But  nothing  could  exceed  the  toughness  of  the  twigs,  — 
not  one  snapped  under  my  weight,  for  they  had  slowly 
grown.  Having  slumped,  scrambled,  rolled,  bounced, 
and  walked,  by  turns,  over  this  scraggy  country,  I  ar>» 
rived  upon  a  side-hill,  or  rather  side-mountain,  where 
rocks,  gray,  silent  rocks,  were  the  flocks  and  herds  that 
pastured,  chewing  a  rocky  cud  at  sunset.  They  looked 
at  me  with  hard  gray  eyes,  without  a  bleat  or  a  low. 
This  brought  me  to  the  skirt  of  a  cloud,  and  bounded 


62  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

my  walk  that  night.  But  I  had  already  seen  that  Maine 
country  when  I  turned  about,  waving,  flowing,  rippling, 
down  below. 

When  I  returned  to  my  companions,  they  had  select- 
ed a  camping-ground  on  the  torrent's  edge,  and  were 
resting  on  the  ground ;  one  was  on  the  sick  list,  rolled 
in  a  blanket,  on  a  damp  shelf  of  rock.  It  was  a  savage 
and  dreary  scenery  enough ;  so  wildly  rough,  that  they 
looked  long  to  find  a  level  and  open  space  for  the  tent. 
We  could  not  well  camp  higher,  for  want  of  fuel ;  and 
the  trees  here  seemed  so  evergreen  and  sappy,  that  we 
almost  doubted  if  they  would  acknowledge  the  influence 
of  fire ;  but  fire  prevailed  at  last,  and  blazed  here,  too, 
like  a  good  citizen  of  the  world.  Even  at  this  height 
we  met  with  frequent  traces  of  moose,  as  well  as  of 
bears.  As  here  was  no  cedar,  we  made  our  bed  of 
coarser  feathered  spruce ;  but  at  any  rate  the  feathers 
were  plucked  from  the  live  tree.  It  was,  perhaps,  even 
a  more  grand  and  desolate  place  for  a  night's  lodging 
than  the  summit  would  have  been,  being  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  those  wild  trees,  and  of  the  torrent.  Some 
more  aerial  and  finer-spirited  winds  rushed  and  roared 
through  the  ravine  all  night,  from  time  to  time  arousing 
our  fire,  and  dispersing  the  embers  about.  It  was  as  if 
we  lay  in  the  very  nest  of  a  young  whirlwind.  At  mid- 
night, one  of  my  bedfellows,  being  startled  in  his  dreams 
by  the  sudden  blazing  up  to  its  top  of  a  fir-tree,  whose 
green  boughs  were  dried  by  the  heat,  sprang  up,  with  a 
cry,  from  his  bed,  thinking  the  world  on  fire,  and  drew 
the  whole  camp  after  him. 

In  the  morning,  after  whetting  our  appetite  on  some 
raw  pork,  a  wafer  of  hard  bread,  and  a  dipper  of  con- 
densed cloud  or  waterspout,  we  all  together  began  to 


KTAADN.  63 

make  our  way  up  the  falls,  which  I  have  described ;  this 
time  choosing  the  right  hand,  or  highest  peak,  which  was 
not  the  one  I  had  approached  before.  But  soon  my 
companions  were  lost  to  my  sight  behind  the  mountain 
ridge  in  my  rear,  which  still  seemed  ever  retreating  be- 
fore me,  and  I  climbed  alone  over  huge  rocks,  loosely 
poised,  a  mile  or  more,  still  edging  toward  the  clouds ; 
for  though  the  day  was  clear  elsewhere,  the  summit  was 
concealed  by  mist.  The  mountain  seemed  a  vast  aggre- 
gation of  loose  rocks,  as. if  some  time  it  had  rained  rocks, 
and  they  lay  as  they  fell  on  the  mountain  sides,  nowhere 
fairly  at  rest,  but  leaning  on  each  other,  all  rocking- 
stones,  with  cavities  between,  but  scarcely  any  soil  or 
smoother  shelf.  They  were  the  raw  materials  of  a 
planet  dropped  from  an  unseen  quarry,  which  the  vast 
chemistry  of  nature  would  anon  work  up,  or  work  down, 
into  the  smiling  and  verdant  plains  and  valleys  of  earth. 
This  was  an  undone  extremity  of  the  globe  ;  as  in  lignite, 
we  see  coal  in  the  process  of  formation. 

At  length  I  entered  within  the  skirts  of  the  cloud 
which  seemed  forever  drifting  over  the  summit,  and  yet 
would  never  be  gone,  but  was  generated  out  of  that 
pure  air  as  fast  as  it  flowed  away  ;  and  when,  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  farther,  I  reached  the  summit  of  the  ridge, 
which  those  who  have  seen  in  clearer  weather  say  is 
about  five  miles  long,  and  contains  a  thousand  acres  of 
table-land,  I  was  deep  within  the  hostile  ranks  of  clouds, 
and  all  objects  were  obscured  by  them.  Now  the  wind 
would  blow  me  out  a  yard  of  clear  sunlight,  wherein  I 
stood  ;  then  a  gray,  dawning  light  was  all  it  could  ac- 
complish, the  cloud-line  ever  rising  and  falling  with  the 
wind's  intensity.  Sometimes  it  seemed  as  if  the  summit 
would  be  cleared  in  a  few  moments,  and  smile  in  sun- 


64  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

shine :  but  what  was  gained  on  one  side  was  lost  on 
another.  It  was  like  sitting  in  a  chimney  and  waiting 
for  the  smoke  to  blow  away./  It  was,  in  fact,  a  cloud- 
factory, —  these  were  the  cloud-works,  and  the  wind 
turned  them  off  done  from  the  cool,  bare  rocks.  Occa- 
sionally, when  the  windy  columns  broke  in  to  me,  I 
caught  sight  of  a  dark,  damp  crag  to  the  right  or  left ; 
the  mist  driving  ceaselessly  between  it  and  me.  It  re- 
minded me  of  the  creations  of  the  old  epic  and  dramatic 
poets,  of  Atlas,  Vulcan,  the  Cyclops,  and  Prometheus. 
Such  was  Caucasus  and  the  rock  where  Prometheus  was 
bound.  -ZEschylus  had  no  doubt  visited  such  scenery  as 
this.  It  was  vast,  Titanic,  and  such  as  man  never  in- 
habits. Some  part  of  the  beholder,  even  some  vital 
part,  seems  to  escape  through  the  loose  grating  of  his 
ribs  as  he  ascends.  He  is  more  lone  than  you  can 
imagine.  There  is  less  of  substantial  thought  and  fair 
understanding  in  him,  than  in  the  plains  where  men 
inhabit.  His  reason  is  dispersed  and  shadowy,  more 
thin  and  subtile,  like  the  air.  Vast,  Titanic,  inhuman 
Nature  has  got  him  at  disadvantage,  caught  him  alone, 
and  pilfers  him  of  some  of  his  divine  faculty.  She 
does  not  smile  on  him  as  in  the  plains.  She  seems  to 
say  sternly,  why  came  ye  here  before  your  time  ?  This 
ground  is  not  prepared  for  you.  Is  it  not  enough  that  I 
smile  in  the  valleys  ?  I  have  never  made  this  soil  for 
thy  feet,  this  air  for  thy  breathing,  these  rocks  for  thy  • 
neighbors.  I  cannot  pity  nor  fondle  thee  here,  but  for- 
ever relentlessly  drive  thee  hence  to  where  I  am  kind. 
Why  seek  me  where  I  have  not  called  thee,  and  then 
complain  because  you  find  me  but  a  stepmother  ? 
Shouldst  thou  freeze  or  starve,  or  shudder  thy  life 
away,  here  is  no  shrine,  nor  altar,  nor  any  access  to 
my  ear. 


KTAADN.  f>5 

"  Chaos  and  ancient  Night,  I  come  no  spy 
With  purpose  to  explore  or  to  disturb 
The  secrets  of  your  realm,  but  .  .  . 

as  my  way 

Lies  through  your  spacious  empire  up  to  light." 

The  tops  of  mountains  are  among  the  unfinished  parts 
of  the  globe,  whither  it  is  a  slight  insult  to  the  gods  to 
climb  and  pry  into  their  secrets,  and  try  their  effect  on 
our  humanity.  Only  daring  and  insolent  men,  per- 
chance, go  there.  Simple  races,  as  savages,  do  not 
climb  mountains,  —  their  tops  are  sacred  and  mysterious 
tracts  never  visited  by  them.  Pomola  is  always  angry 
.with  those  who  climb  to  the  summit  of  Ktaadn. 

According  to  Jackson,  who,  in  his  capacity  of  geologi- 
cal surveyor  of  the  State,  has  accurately  measured  it,  — 
the  altitude  of  Ktaadn  is  5,300  feet,  or  a  little  more 
than  one  mile  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  —  and  he  adds, 
"  It  is  then  evidently  the  highest  point  in  the  State  of 
Maine,  and  is  the  most  abrupt  granite  mountain  in  New 
England."  The  peculiarities  of  that  spacious  table-land 
on  which  I  was  standing,  as  well  as  the  remarkable 
semi-circular  precipice  or  basin  on  the  eastern  side, 
were  all  concealed  by  the  mist.  I  had  brought  my 
whole  pack  to  the  top,  not  knowing  but  I  should  have 
to  make  my  descent  to  the  river,  and  possibly  to  the 
settled  portion  of  the  State  alone,  and  by  some  other 
route,  and  wishing  to  have  a  complete  outfit  with  me. 
But  at  length,  fearing  that  my  companions  would  be 
anxious  to  reach  the  river  before  night,  and  knowing 
that  the  clouds  might  rest  on  the  mountain  for  days,  I 
was  compelled  to  descend.  Occasionally,  as  I  came 
down,  the  wind  would  blow  me  a  vista  open,  through 
which  I  could  see  the  country  eastward,  boundless  for- 


66  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

ests,  and  lakes,  and  streams,  gleaming  in  the  sun,  some 
of  them  emptying  into  the  East  Branch.  There  were 
also  new  mountains  in  sight  in  that  direction.  Now  and 
then  some  small  bird  of  the  sparrow  family  would  flit 
away  before  me,  unable  to  command  its  course,  like  a 
fragment  of  the  gray  rock  blown  off  by  the  wind. 

I  found  my  companions  where  I  had  left  them,  on  the 
side  of  the  peak,  gathering  the  mountain  cranberries, 
which  filled  every  crevice  between  the  rocks,  together 
with  blueberries,  which  had  a  spicier  flavor  the  higher 
up  they  grew,  but  were  not  the  less  agreeable  to  .our 
palates.  When  the  country  is  settled,  and  roads  are 
made,  these  cranberries  will  perhaps  become  an  article 
of  commerce.  From  this  elevation,  just  on  the  skirts  of 
the  clouds,  we  could  overlook  the  country,  west  and 
south,  for  a  hundred  miles.  There  it  was,  the  State  of 
Maine,  which  we  had  seen  on  the  map,  but  not  much 
like  that,  —  immeasurable  forest  for  the  sun  to  shine  on, 
that  eastern  stuff  we  hear  of  in  Massachusetts.  No 
clearing,  no  house.  It  did  not  look  as  if  a  solitary  trav- 
eller had  cut  so  much  as  a  walking-stick  there.  Count- 
less lakes,  —  Moosehead  in  the  southwest,  forty  miles 
long  by  ten  wide,  like  a  gleaming  silver  platter  at  the 
end  of  the  table ;  Chesuncook,  eighteen  long  by  three 
wide,  without  an  island ;  Millinocket,  on  the  south,  with 
its  hundred  islands ;  and  a  hundred  others  without  a 
name ;  and  mountains  also,  whose  names,  for  the  most 
part,  are  known  only  to  the  Indians.  The  forest  looked 
like  a  firm  grass  sward,  and  the  effect  of  these  lakes  in 
its  midst  has  been  well  compared,  by  one  who  has  since 
visited  this  same  spot,  to  that  of  a  "  mirjror_^okenjnlo  a 
thousand-raiments,  and  wildly  scattered  over  the  grass, 
^  the  sun."  It  was  a  large 


KTAADN.  67 

farm  for  somebody,  when  cleared.  According  to  the 
Gazetteer,  which  was  printed  before  the  boundary  ques- 
tion was  settled,  this  single  Penobscot  county,  in  which 
we  were,  was  larger  than  the  whole  State  of  Vermont, 
with  its  fourteen  counties ;  and  this  was  only  a  part  of 
the  wild  lands  of  Maine.  We  are  concerned  now,  how- 
ever, about  natural,  not  political  limits.  We  were  about 
eighty  miles,  as  the  bird  flies,  from  Bangor,  or  one  hun- 
dred and  fifteen,  as  we  had  rode,  and  walked,  and  pad- 
dled. We  had  to  console  ourselves  with  the  reflection 
that  this  view  was  probably  as  good  as  that  from  the 
peak,  as  far  as  it  went ;  and  what  were  a  mountain  with- 
out its  attendant  clouds  and  mists  ?  Like  ourselves, 
neither  Bailey  nor  Jackson  had  obtained  a  clear  view 
from  the  summit. 

Setting  out  on  our  return  to  the  river,  still  at  an  early 
hour  in  the  day,  we  decided  to  follow  the  course  of  the 
torrent,  which  we  supposed  to  be  Murch  Brook,  as  long 
as  it  would  not  lead  us  too  far  out  of  our  way.  We  thus 
travelled  about  four  miles  in  the  very  torrent  itself,  con- 
tinually crossing  and  recrossing  it,  leaping  from  rock  to 
rock,  and  jumping  with  the  stream  down  falls  of  seven 
or  eight  feet,  or  sometimes  sliding  down  on  our  backs  in 
a  thin  sheet  of  water.  This  ravine  had  been  the  scene 
of  an  extraordinary  freshet  in  the  spring,  apparently  ac- 
companied by  a  slide  from  the  mountain.  It  must  have 
been  filled  with  a  stream  of  stones  and  water,  at  least 
twenty  feet  above  the  present  level  of  the  torrent.  For 
a  rod  or  two,  on  either  side  of  its  channel,  the  trees  were 
barked  and  splintered  up  to  their  tops,  the  birches  bent 
over,  twisted,  and  sometimes  finely  split,  like  a  stable- 
broom  ;  some,  a  foot  in  diameter,  snapped  off,  and  whole 
clumps  of  trees  bent  over  with  the  weight  of  rocks  piled 


68  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

on  them.  In  one  place  we  noticed  a  rock,  two  or  three 
feet  in  diameter,  lodged  nearly  twenty  feet  high  in  the 
crotch  of  a  tree.  For  the  whole  four  miles,  we  saw  but 
one  rill  emptying  in,  and  the  volume  of  water  did  not 
seem  to  be  increased  from  the  first.  We  travelled  thus 
very  rapidly  with  a  downward  impetus,  and  grew  re- 
markably expert  at  leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  for  leap 
we  must,  and  leap  we  did,  whether  there  was  any  rock 
at  the  right  distance  or  not.  It  was  a  pleasant  picture 
when  the  foremost  turned  about  and  looked  up  the  wind- 
ing ravine,  walled  in  with  rocks  and  the  green  forest,  to 
see,  at  intervals  of  a  rod  or  two,  a  red-shirted  or  green- 
jacketed  mountaineer  against  the  white  torrent,  leaping 
down  the  channel  with  his  pack  on  his  back,  or  pausing 
upon  a  convenient  rock  in  the  midst  of  the  torrent  to 
mend  a  rent  in  his  clothes,  or  unstrap  the  dipper  at  his 
belt  to  take  a  draught  of  the  water.  At  one  place  we 
were  startled  by  seeing,  on  a  little  sandy  shelf  by  the 
side  of  the  stream,  the  fresh  print  of  a  man's  foot,  and 
for  a  moment  realized  how  Robinson  Crusoe  felt  in  a 
similar  case ;  but  at  last  we  remembered  that  we  had 
struck  this  stream  on  our  way  up,  though  we  could  not 
have  told  where,  and  one  had  descended  into  the  ravine 
for  a  drink.  The  cool  air  above,  and  the  continual 
bathing  of  -our  bodies  in  mountain  water,  alternate  foot, 
sitz,  douche,  and  plunge  baths,  made  this  walk  exceed- 
ingly refreshing,  and  we  had  travelled'  only  a  mile  or 
two,  after  leaving  the  torrent,  before  every  thread  of  our 
clothes  was  as  dry  as  usual,  owing  perhaps  to  a  peculiar 
quality  in  the  atmosphere. 

After  leaving  the  torrent,  being  in  doubt  about  our 
course,  Tom  threw  down  his  pack  at  the  foot  of  the  lof- 
tiest spruce  tree  at  hand,  and  shinned  up  the  bare  trunk, 


KTAADN.  69 

some  twenty  feet,  and  then  climbed  through  the  green 
tower,  lost  to  our  sight,  until  he  held  the  topmost  spray 
in  his  hand.*  McCauslin,  in  his  younger  days,  had 
marched  through  the  wilderness  with  a  body  of  troops, 
under  General  Somebody,  and  with  one  other  man  did  all 
the  scouting  and  spying  service.  The  General's  word 
was,  "  Throw  down  the  top  of  that  tree,"  and  there  was  no 
tree  in  the  Maine  woods  so  high  that  it  did  not  lose  its 
top  in  such  a  case.  I  have  heard  a  story  of  two  men 
being  lost  once  in  these  woods,  nearer  to  the  settlements 
than  this,  who  climbed  the  loftiest  pine  they  could  find, 
some  six  feet  in  diameter  at  the  ground,  from  whose 
top  they  discovered  a  solitary  clearing  and  its  smoke. 
When  at  this  height,  some  two  hundred  feet  from  the 
ground,  one  of  them  became  dizzy,  and  fainted  in  his 
companion's  arms,  and  the  latter  had  to  accomplish  the 
descent  with  him,  alternately  fainting  and  reviving,  as 
best  he  could.  To  Tom  we  cried,  Where  away  does  the 
summit  bear  ?  where  the  burnt  lands  ?  The  last  he 
could  only  conjecture ;  he  descried,  however,  a  little 
meadow  and  pond,  lying  probably  in  our  course,  which 
we  concluded  to  steer  for.  On  reaching  this  secluded 
meadow,  we  found  fresh  tracks  of  moose  on  the  shore  of 
the  pond,  and  the  water  was  still  unsettled  as  if  they  had 
fled  before  us.  A  little  farther,  in  a  dense  thicket,  we 

*  "  The  spruce-tree,"  says  Springer  in  '51,  "  is  generally  selected, 
principally  for  the  superior  facilities  which  its  numerous  limbs  af- 
ford the  climber.  To  gain  the  first  limbs  of  this  tree,  which  are  from 
twenty  to  forty  feet  from  the  ground,  a  smaller  tree  is  undercut  and 
lodged  against  it,  clambering  up  which  the  top  of  the  spruce  is 
reached.  In  some  cases,  when  a  very  elevated  position  is  desired, 
the  spruce-tree  is  lodged  against  the  trunk  of  some  lofty  pine,  up 
which  we  ascend  to  a  height  twice  that  of  the  surrounding  forest." 

To  indicate  the  direction  of  pines,  he  throws  down  a  branch,  and 
a  man  at  the  ground  takes  the  bearing. 


70  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

seemed  to  be  still  on  their  trail.  It  was  a  small  meadow, 
of  a  few  acres,  on  the  mountain  side,  concealed  by  the 
forest,  and  perhaps  never  seen  by  a  white  man  before, 
where  one  would  think  that  the  moose  might  browse  and 
bathe,  and  rest  in  peace.  Pursuing  this  course,  we  soon 
reached  the  open  land,  which  went  sloping  down  some 
miles  toward  the  Penobscot. 

Perhaps  I  most  fully  realized  that  this  was  primeval, 
untamed,  and  forever  untameable  Nature,  or  whatever 
else  men  call  it,  while  coming  down  this  part  of  the 
mountain.  We  were  passing  over  "  Burnt  Lands," 
burnt  by  lightning,  perchance,  though  they  showed  no 
recent  marks  of  fire,  hardly  so  much  as  a  charred  stump, 
but  looked  rather  like  a  natural  pasture  for  the  moose 
and  deer,  exceedingly  wild  and  desolate,  with  occasional 
strips  of  timber  crossing  them,  and  low  poplars  springing 
up,  and  patches  of  blueberries  here  and  there.  I  found 
myself  traversing  them  familiarly,  like  some  pasture  run 
to  waste,  or  partially  reclaimed  by  man ;  but  when  I 
reflected  what  man,  what  brother  or  sister  or  kinsman  of 
our  race  made  it  and  claimed  it,  I  expected  the  propri- 
etor to  rise  up  and  dispute  my  passage.  It  is  difficult  to 
conceive  of  a  region  uninhabited  by  man.  We  habitu- 
ally presume  his  presence  and  influence  everywhere. 
And  yet  we  have  not  seen  pure  Nature,  unless  we  have 
seen  her  thus  vast  and  drear  and  inhuman,  though  in 
the  midst  of  cities.  Nature  was  here  something  savage 
and  awful,  though  beautiful.  I  looked  with  awe  at  the 
ground  I  trod  on,  to  see  what  the  Powers  had  made 
there,  the  form  and  fashion  and  material  of  their  work. 
This  was  that  Earth  of  which  we  have  heard,  made  out 
of  Chaos  and  Old  Night.  Here  was  no  man's  garden, 
but  the  unharidselled  globe.  It  was  not  lawn,  nor  pas- 


KTAADN.     .  71 

ture,  nor  mead,  nor  woodland,  nor  lea,  nor  arable,  nor 
waste-land.  It  was  the  fresh  and  natural  surface  of  the 
planet  Earth,  as  it  was  made  for  ever  and  ever,  —  to  be 
the  dwelling  of  man,  we  say,  —  so  Nature  made  it,  and 
man  may  use  it  if  he  can.  Man  was  not  to  be  associ- 
ated with  it.  It  was  Matter,  vast,  terrific, — not  his 
Mother  Earth  that  we  have  heard  of,  not  for  him  to 
tread  on,  or  be  buried  in,  —  no,  it  were  being  too  famil- 
iar even  to  let  his  bones  lie  there,  —  the  home,  this,  of 
Necessity  and  Fate.  There  was  there  felt  the  presence 
of  a  force  not  bound  to  be  kind  to  man.  It  was  a  place 
for  heathenism  and  superstitious  rites,  —  to  be  inhabited 
by  men  nearer  of  kin  to  the  rocks  and  to  wild  animals 
than  we.  We  walked  over  it  with  a  certain  awe,  stop- 
ping, from  time  to  time,  to  pick  the  blueberries  which 
grew  there,  and  had  a  smart  and  spicy  taste.  Perchance 
where  our  wild  pines  stand,  and  leaves  lie  on  their  forest 
floor,  in  Concord,  there  were  once  reapers,  and  husband- 
men planted  grain ;  but  here  not  even  the  surface  had 
been  scarred  by  man,  but  it  was  a  specimen  of  what 
God  saw  fit  to  make  this  world.  What  is  it  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  a  museum,  to  see  a  myriad  of  particular  things, 
compared  with  being  shown  some  star's  surface,  some 
hard  matter  in  its  home  !  I  stand  in  awe  of  my  body, 
this  matter  to  which  I  am  bound  has  become  so  strange 
to  me.  I  fear  not  spirits,  ghosts,  of  which  I  am  one,  — 
that  my  body  might,  —  but  I  fear  bodies,  I  tremble  to 
meet  them.  What  is  this  Titan  that  has  possession  of 
me  ?  Talk  of  mysteries  !  —  Think  of  our  life  in  nature, 

—  daily  to  be  shown  matter,  to  come  in  contact  with  it, 

—  rocks,  trees,  wind  on  our  cheeks !  the  solid  earth ! 
the  actual  world !  the  common  sense  !     Contact !     Con- 
tact !     Who  are  we  ?  where  are  we  ? 


72  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Erelong  we  recognized  some  rocks  and  other  features 
in  the  landscape  which  we  had  purposely  impressed  on 
our  memories,  and,  quickening  our  pace,  by  two  o'clock 
we  reached  the  batteau.*  Here  we  had  expected  to 
dine  on  trout,  but  in  this  glaring  sunlight  they  were  slow 
to  take  the  bait,  so  we  were  compelled  to  make  the  most 
of  the  crumbs  of  our  hard  bread  and  our  pork,  which 
were  both  nearly  exhausted.  Meanwhile  we  deliberated 
whether  we  should  go  up  the  river  a  mile  farther,  to 
Gibson's  clearing,  on  the  Sowadnehunk,  where  there  was 
a  deserted  log-hut,  in  order  to  get  a  half-inch  auger,  to 
mend  one  of  our  spike-poles  with.  There  were  young 
spruce-trees  enough  around  us,  and  we  had  a  spare 
spike,  but  nothing  to  make  a  hole  with.  But  as  it  was 
uncertain  whether  we  should  find  any  tools  left  there, 
we  patched  up  the  broken  pole,  as  well  as  we  could,  for 
the  downward  voyage,  in  which  there  would  be  but  little 
use  for  it.  Moreover,  we  were  unwilling  to  lose  any 
time  in  this  expedition,  lest  the  wind  should  rise  before 
we  reached  the  larger  lakes,  and  detain  us ;  for  a  moder- 
ate wind  produces  quite  a  sea  on  these  waters,  in  which 
a  batteau  will  not  live  for  a  moment ;  and  on  one  occa- 
sion McCauslin  had  been  delayed  a  week  at  the  head  of 
the  North  Twin,  which  is  only  four  miles  across.  We 
were  nearly  out  of  provisions,  and  ill  prepared  in  this 
respect  for  what  might  possibly  prove  a  week's  journey 
round  by  the  shore,  fording  innumerable  streams,  and 
threading  a  trackless  forest,  should  any  accident  happen 
to  our  boat. 

It  was  with  regret  that  we  turned  our  backs  on  Che- 

*  The  bears  had  not  touched  things  on  our  possessions.  They 
sometimes  tear  a  batteau  to  pieces  for  the  sake  of  the  tar  with  which 
it  is  besmeared. 


KTAADN.  73 

suncook,  which  McCauslin  had  formerly  logged  on,  and 
the  Allegash  lakes.  There  were  still  longer  rapids  and 
portages  above ;  among  the  last  the  Rippogenus  Port- 
age, which  he  described  as  the  most  difficult  on  the 
river,  and  three  miles  long.  The  whole  length  of  the 
Penobscot  is  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  miles,  and 
we  are  still  nearly  one  hundred  miles  from  its  source. 
Hodge,  the  assistant  State  Geologist,  passed  up  this 
river  in  1837,  and  by  a  portage  of  only  one  mile  and 
three-quarters  crossed  over  into  the  Allegash,  and  so 
went  down  that  into  the  St.  John,  and  up  the  Mada- 
waska  to  the  Grand  Portage  across  to  the  St.  Lawrence. 
His  is  the  only  account  that  I  know,  of  an  expedition 
through  to  Canada  in  this  direction.  He  thus  describes 
his  first  sight  of  the  latter  river,  which,  to  compare  small 
things  with  great,  is  like  Balboa's  first  sight  of  the 
Pacific  from  the  mountains  of  the  Isthmus  of  Darien. 
"  When  we  first  came  in  sight  of  the  St.  Lawrence,"  he 
says,  "from  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  the  view  was  most 
striking,  and  much  more  interesting  to  me  from  having 
been  shut  up  in  the  woods  for  the  two  previous  months. 
Directly  before  us  lay  the  broad  river,  extending  across 
nine  or  ten  miles,  its  surface  broken  by  a  few  islands 
and  reefs,  and  two  ships  riding  at  anchor  near  the  shore. 
Beyond,  extended  ranges  of  uncultivated  hills,  parallel 
with  the  river.  The  sun  was  just  going  down  behind 
them,  and  gilding  the  whole  scene  with  its  parting  rays." 
About  four  o'clock,  the  same  afternoon,  we  commenced 
our  return  voyage,  which  would  require  but  little  if  any 
poling.  In  shooting  rapids  the  boatmen  use  large  and 
broad  paddles,  instead  of  poles,  to  guide  the  boat  with. 
Though  we  glided  so  swiftly,  and  often  smoothly,  down, 
where  it  had  cost  us  no  slight  effort  to  get  up,  our  pres- 

4 


74  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

ent  voyage  was  attended  with  far  more  danger :  for  if  we 
once  fairly  struck  one  of  the  thousand  rocks  by  which 
we  were  surrounded  the  boat  would  be  swamped  in  an 
instant.  When  a  boat  is  swamped  under  these  circum- 
stances, the  boatmen  commonly  find  no  difficulty  in 
keeping  afloat  at  first,  for  the  current  keeps  both  them 
and  their  cargo  up  for  a  long  way  down  the  stream ;  and 
if  they  can  swim,  they  have  only  to  work  their  way 
gradually  to  the  shore.  The  greatest  danger  is  of  being 
caught  in  an  eddy  behind  some  larger  rock,  where  the 
water  rushes  up  stream  faster  than  elsewhere  it  does 
down,  and  being  carried  round  and  round  under  the  sur- 
face till  they  are  drowned.  McCauslin  pointed  out 
some  rocks  which  had  been  the  scene  of  a  fatal  accident 
of  this  kind.  Sometimes  the  body  is  not  thrown  out  for 
several  hours.  He  himself  had  performed  such  a  cir- 
cuit once,  only  his  legs  being  visible  to  his  companions  ; 
but  he  was  fortunately  thrown  out  in  season  to  recover 
his  breath.*  In  shooting  the  rapids,  the  boatman  has 
this  problem  to  solve :  to  choose  a  circuitous  and  safe 
course  amid  a  thousand  sunken  rocks,  scattered  over  a 
quarter  or  half  a  mile,  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  mov- 
ing steadily  on  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour. 
Stop  he  cannot ;  the  only  question  is,  where  will  he  go  ? 
The  bow-man  chooses  the  course  with  all  his  eyes  about 
him,  striking  broad  off  with  his  paddle,  and  drawing  the 
boat  by  main  force  into  her  course.  The  stern-man 
faithfully  follows  the  bow. 

We  were  soon  at  the  Aboljacarmegiis  Falls.     Anx- 

*  I  cut  this  from  a  newspaper.  "  On  the  llth  (instant  ?)  [May,  '49], 
on  Rappogenes  Falls,  Mr.  John  Delantee,  of  Orono,  Me.,  was  drowned 
while  running  logs.  He  was  a  citizen  of  Orono,  and  was  twenty-six 
years  of  age.  His  companions  found  his  body,  enclosed  it  in  bark, 
and  buried  it  in  the  solemn  woods." 


KTAADN.  75 

ious  to  avoid  the  delay,  as  well  as  the  labor,  of  the  port- 
age here,  our  boatmen  went  forward  first  'to  reconnoitre, 
and  concluded  to  let  the  batteau  down  the  falls,  carrying 
the  baggage  only  over  the  portage. ,  Jumping  from  rock 
to  rock  until  nearly  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  we 
were  ready  to  receive  the  boat  and  let  her  down  over 
the  first  fall,  some  six  or  seven  feet  perpendicular.  The 
boatmen  stand  upon  the  edge  of  a  shelf  of  rock,  where 
the  fall  is  perhaps  nine  or  ten  feet  perpendicular,  in 
from  one  to  two  feet  of  rapid  water,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  boat,  and  let  it  slide  gently  over,  till  the  bow  is  run 
out  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  the  air ;  then,  letting  it  drop 
squarely,  while  one  holds  the  painter,  the  other  leaps 
in,  and  his  companion  following,  they  are  whirled  down 
the  rapids  to  a  new  fall,  or  to  smooth  water.  In  a  very 
few  minutes  they  had  accomplished  a  passage  in  safety, 
which  would  be  as  foolhardy  for  the  unskilful  to  at- 
tempt as  the  descent  of  Niagara  itself.  It  seemed  as  if 
it  needed  only  a  little  familiarity,  and  a  little  more  skill, 
to  navigate  down  such  falls  as  Niagara  itself  with  safety. 
At  any  rate,  I  should  not  despair  of  such  men  in  the 
rapids  above  table-rock,  until  I  saw  them  actually  go 
over  the  falls,  so  cool,  so  collected,  so  fertile  in  resources 
are  they.  One  might  have  thought  that  these  were 
falls,  and  that  falls  were  not  to  be  waded  through  with 
impunity,  like  a  mud-puddle.  There  was  really  danger 
of  their  losing  their  sublimity  in  losing  their  power  to 
harm  us.  Familiarity  breeds  contempt.  The  boatman 
pauses,  perchance,  on  some  shelf  beneath  a  table-rock 
under  the  fall,  standing  in  some  cove  of  back-water  two 
feet  deep,  and  you  hear  his  rough  voice  come  up  through 
the  spray,  coolly  giving  directions  how  to  launch  the  boat 
this  time. 


76  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Having  carried  round  Pockwockomus  Falls,  our  oars 
soon  brought  us  to  the  Katepskonegan,  or  Oak  Hall 
carry,  where  we  decided  to  camp  half  way  over,  leaving 
our  batteau  to  be  carried  over  in  the  morning  on  fresh 
shoulders.  One  shoulder  of  each  of  the  boatmen  showed 
a  red  spot  as  large  as  one's  hand,  worn  by  the  batteau 
on  this  expedition ;  and  this  shoulder,  as  it  did  all  the 
work,  was  perceptibly  lower  than  its  fellow,  from  long 
service.  Such  toil  soon  wears  out  the  strongest  consti- 
tution. The  drivers  are  accustomed  to  work  in  the  cold 
water  in  the  spring,  rarely  ever  dry ;  and  if  one  falls  in 
all  over  he  rarely  changes  his  clothes  till  night,  if  then, 
even.  One  who  takes  this  precaution  is  called  by  a  par- 
ticular nickname,  or  is  turned  off.  None  can  lead  this 
life  who  are  not  almost  amphibious.  McCauslin  said 
soberly,  what  is  at  any  rate  a  good  story  to  tell,  that  he 
had  seen  where  six  men  were  wholly  under  water  at 
once,  at  a  jam,  with  their  shoulders  to  handspikes.  If 
the  log  did  not  start,  then  they  had  to  put  out  their 
heads  to  breathe.  The  driver  works  as  long  as  he  can 
see,  from  dark  to  dark,  and  at  night  has  not  time  to  eat 
his  Supper  and  dry  his  clothes  fairly,  before  he  is  asleep 
on  his  cedar  bed.  We  lay  that  night  on  the  very  bed 
made  by  such  a  party,  stretching  our  tent  over  the  poles 
which  were  still  standing,  but  reshingling  the  damp  and 
faded  bed  with  fresh  leaves. 

In  the  morning  we  carried  our  boat  over  and 
launched  it,  making  haste  lest  the  wind  should  rise. 
The  boatmen  ran  down  Passamagamet,  and,  soon  after. 
Ambejijis  Falls,  while  we  walked  round  with  the  bag- 
gage. We  made  a  hasty  breakfast  at  the  head  of  Am- 
bejijis Lake,  on  the  remainder  of  our  pork,  and  were  soon 
rowing  across  its  smooth  surface  again,  under  a  pleasant 


KTAADN.  77 

sky,  the  mountain  being  now  clear  of  clouds,  in  the 
northeast.  Taking  turns  at  the  oars,  we  shot  rapidly 
across  Deep  Cove,  the  foot  of  Pamadumcook,  and  the 
North  Twin,  at  the  rate  of  six  miles  an  hour,  the  wind  not 
being  high  enough  to  disturb  us,  and  reached  the  Dam 
at  noon.  The  boatmen  went  through  one  of  the  log 
sluices  in  the  batteau,  where  the  fall  was  ten  feet  at  the 
bottom,  and  took  us  in  below.  Here  was  the  longest 
rapid  in  our  voyage,  and  perhaps  the  running  this  was 
as  dangerous  and  arduous  a  task  as  any.  Shooting 
down  sometimes  at  the  rate,  as  we  judged,  of  fifteen 
miles  an  hour,  if  we  struck  a  rock  we  were  split  from 
end  to  end  in  an  instant.  Now,  like  a  bait  bobbing  for 
some  river  monster,  amid  the  eddies,  now  darting  to  this 
side  of  the  stream,  now  to  that,  gliding  swift  and  smooth 
near  to  our  destruction,  or  striking  broad  off  with  the 
paddle  and  drawing  the  boat  to  right  or  left  with  all  our 
might,  in  order  to  avoid  a  rock.  I  suppose  that  it  was 
like  running  the  rapids  of  the  Saute  de  St.  Marie,  at 
the  outlet  of  Lake  Superior,  and  our  boatmen  probably 
displayed  no  less  dexterity  than  the  Indians  there  do. 
We  soon  ran  through  this  mile,  and  floated  in  Quakish 
Lake. 

After  such  a  voyage,  the  troubled  and  angry  waters, 
which  once  had  seemed  terrible  and  not  to  be  trifled 
with,  appeared  tamed  and  subdued  ;  they  had  been 
bearded  and  worried  in  their  channels,  pricked  and 
whipped  into  submission  with  the  spike-pole  and  paddle, 
gone  through  and  through  with  impunity,  and  all  their 
spirit  and  their  danger  taken  out  of  them,  and  the  most 
swollen  and  impetuous  rivers  seemed  but  playthings 
henceforth.  I  began,  at  length,  to  understand  the  boat- 
man's familiarity  with,  and  contempt  for,  the  rapids. 


78  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

"  Those  Fowler  boys,"  said  Mrs.  McCauslin,  "  are  per- 
fect ducks  for  the  water."  They  had  run  down  to  Lin- 
coln, according  to  her,  thirty  or  forty  miles,  in  a  batteau, 
in  the  night,  for  a  doctor,  when  it  was  so  dark  that  they 
could  not  see  a  rod  before  them,  and  the  river  was  swol- 
len so  as  to  be  almost  a  continuous  rapid,  so  that  the 
doctor  cried,  when  they  brought  him  up  by  daylight, 
"  Why,  Tom,  how  did  you  see  to  steer  ?  "  "  We  did  n't 
steer  much,  —  only  kept  her  straight."  And  yet  they 
met  with  no  accident.  It  is  true,  the  more  difficult 
rapids  are  higher  up  than  this. 

When  we  reached  the  Millinocket  opposite  to  Tom's 
house,  and  were  waiting  for  his  folks  to  set  us  over,  for 
we  had  left  our  batteau  above  the  Grand  Falls,  we  dis- 
covered two  canoes,  with  two  men  in  each,  turning  up 
this  stream  from  Shad  Pond,  one  keeping  the  opposite 
side  of  a  small  island  before  us,  while  the  other  ap-  / 
preached  the  side  where  we  were  standing,  examining 
the  banks  carefully  for  muskrats  as  they  came  along. 
The  last  proved  to  be  Louis  Neptune  and  his  companion, 
now,  at  last,  on  their  way  up  to  Chesuncook  after  moose  ; 
but  they  were  so  disguised  that  we  hardly  knew  them. 
At  a  little  distance  they  might  have  been  taken  for 
Quakers,  with  their  broad-brimmed  hats,  and  overcoats 
with  broad  capes,  the  spoils  of  Bangor,  seeking  a  settle- 
ment in  this  Sylvania,  —  or,  nearer  at  hand,  for  fashion- 
able gentlemen  the  morning  after  a  spree.  Met  face  to 
face,  these  Indians  in  their  native  woods  looked  like  the 
sinister  and  slouching  fellows  whom  you  meet  picking 
up  strings  and  paper  in  the  streets  of  a  city.  There  is, 
in  fact,  a  remarkable  and  unexpected  resemblance  be- 
tween the  degraded  savage  and  the  lowest  classes  in  a 
great  city.  The  one  is  no  more  a  child  of  nature  than 


KTAADN.  79 

the  other.  In  the  progress  of  degradation  the  distinction 
of  races  is  soon  lost.  Neptune  at  first  was  only  anxious 
to  know  what  we  "  kill,"  seeing  some  partridges  in  the 
hands  of  one  of  the  party,  but  we  had  assumed  too 
much  anger  to  permit  of  a  reply.  We  thought  Indiana 
had  some  honor  before.  But — "Me  been  sick.  O, 
me  unwell  now.  You  make  bargain,  then  me  go." 
They  had  in  fact  been  delayed  so  long  by  a  drunken 
frolic  at  the  Five  Islands,  and  they  had  not  yet  recov- 
ered from  its  effects.  They  had  some  young  musquash 
in  their  canoes,  which  they  dug  out  of  the  banks  with 
a  hoe,  for  food,  not  for  their  skins,  for  musquash  are  their 
principal  food  on  these  expeditions.  So  they  went  on 
up  the  Millinocket,  and  we  kept  down  the  bank  of  the 
Penobscot,  after  recruiting  ourselves  with  a  draught  of 
Tom's  beer,  leaving  Tom  at  his  home. 

Thus  a  man  shall  lead  his  life  away  here  on  the  edge 
of  the  wilderness,  on  Indian  Millinocket  stream,  in  a 
new  world,  far  in  the  dark  of  a  continent,  and  have  a 
flute  to  play  at  evening  here,  while  his  strains  echo  to 
the  stars,  amid  the  howling  of  wolves ;  shall  live,  as  it 
were,  in  the  primitive  age  of  the  world,  a  primitive 
man.  Yet  he  shall  spend  a  sunny  day,  and  in  this  cen- 
tury be  my  contemporary;  perchance  shall  read  some 
scattered  leaves  of  literature,  and  sometimes  talk  with 
me.  Why  read  history,  then,  if  the  ages  and  the  gen- 
erations are  now  ?  He  lives  three  thousand  years  deep 
into  time,  an  age  not  yet  described  by  poets.  Can  you 
well  go  further  back  in  history  than  this  ?  Ay  !  ay !  — 
for  there  turns  up  but  now  into  the  mouth  of  Millinocket 
stream  a  still  more  ancient  and  primitive  man,  whose 
history  is  not  brought  down  even  to  the  former.  In  a 
bark  vessel  sewn  with  the  roots  of  the  spruce,  with 


80  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

hornbeam  paddles,  he  dips  his  way  along.  He  is  but 
dim  and  misty  to  me,  obscured  by  the  aeons,  that  lie  be- 
tween the  bark-canoe  and  the  batteau.  He  builds  no 
house  of  logs,  but  a  wigwam  of  skins.  He  eats  no  hot 
bread  and  sweet  cake,  but  musquash  and  moose-meat 
and  the  fat  of  bears.  He  glides  up  the  Millinocket  and 
is  lost  to  my  sight,  as  a  more  distant  and  misty  cloud  is 
seen  flitting  by  behind  a  nearer,  and  is  lost  in  space. 
So  he  goes  about  his  destiny,  the  red  face  of  man. 

After  having  passed  the  night,  and  buttered  our  boots 
for  the  last  time,  at  Uncle  George's,  whose  dogs  almost 
devoured  him  for  joy  at  his  return,  we  kept  on  down  the 
river  the  next  day,  about  eight  miles  on  foot,  and  then 
took  a  batteau,  with  a  man  to  pole  it,  to  Mattawamkeag, 
ten  more.  At  the  middle  of  that  very  night,  to  make 
a  swift  conclusion  to  a  long  story,  we  dropped  our 
buggy  over  the  half-finished  bridge  at  Oldtown,  where 
we  heard  the  confused  din  and  clink  of  a  hundred 
saws,  which  never  rest,  and  at  six  o'clock  the  next 
morning  one  of  the  party  was  steaming  his  way  to  Mas- 
sachusetts. 

"What  is  most  striking  in  the  Maine  wilderness  is  the 
continuousness  of  the  forest,  with  fewer  open  intervals 
or  glades  than  you  had  imagined.  Except  the  few 
burnt-lands,  the  narrow  intervals  on  the  rivers,  the  bare 
tops  of  the  high  mountains,  and  the  lakes  and  streams, 
the  forest  is  uninterrupted.  It  is  even  more  grim  and 
wild  than  you  had  anticipated,  a  damp  and  intricate 
wilderness,  in  the  spring  everywhere  wet  and  miry. 
The  aspect  of  the  country,  indeed,  is  universally  stern 
and  savage,  excepting  the  distant  views  of  the  forest 
from  hills,  and  the  lake  prospects,  which  are  mild  and 


KTAADN.  81 

civilizing  in  a  degree.  The  lakes  are  something  which 
you  are  unprepared  for;  they  lie  up  so  high,  exposed 
to  the  light,  and  the  forest  is  diminished  to  a  fine  fringe 
on  their  edges,  with  here  and  there  a  blue  mountain, 
like  amethyst  jewels  set  around  some  jewel  of  the  first 
water,  —  so  anterior,  so  superior,  to  all  the  changes  that 
are  to  take  place  on  their  shores,  even  now  civil  and 
refined,  and  fair  as  they  can  ever  be.  These  are  not 
the  artificial  forests  of  an  English  king,  —  a  royal  pre- 
serve merely.  Here  prevail  no  forest  laws  but  those 
of  nature.  The  aborigines  have  never  been  dispos- 
sessed, nor  nature  disforested. 

It  is  a  country  full  of  evergreen  trees,  of  mossy  silver 
birches  and  watery  maples,  the  ground  dotted  with  in- 
sipid, small,  red  berries,  and  strewn  with  damp  and 
moss-grown  rocks, — a  country  diversified  with  innu- 
merable lakes  and  rapid  streams,  peopled  with  trout  and 
various  species  of  Ie3j>ci§ci,  with  salmon,  shad,  and  pick- 
erel, and  other  fisKes ;  the  forest  resounding  at  rare  in- 
tervals with  the  note  of  the  chicadee,  the  blue-jay,  and 
the  woodpecker,  the  scream  of  the  fish-hawk  and  the 
eagle,  the  laugh  of  the  loon,  and  the  whistle  of  ducks 
along  the  solitary  streams  ;  at  night,  with  the  hooting 
of  owls  and  howling  of  wolves ;  in  summer,  swarming 
with  myriads  of  black  flies  and  mosquitoes,  more  formi- 
dable than  wolves  to  the  white  man.  Such  is  the  home 
of  the  moose,  the  bear,  the  caribou,  the  wolf,  the  beaver, 
and  the  Indian.  Who  shall  describe  the  inexpressible 
tenderness  and  immortal  life  of  the  grim  forest,  where 
Nature,  though  it  be  mid-winter,  is  ever  in  her  spring, 
where  the  moss-grown  and  decaying  trees  are  not  old, 
but  seem  to  enjoy  a  perpetual  youth ;  and  blissful,  inno- 
cent Nature,  like  a  serene  infant,  is  too  happy  to  make 

4*  , 


82  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

a  noise,  except  by  a  few  tinkling,   lisping  birds  and 
trickling  rills? 

What  a  place  to  live,  what  a  place  to  die  and  be 
buried  in!  There  certainly  men  would  live  forever, 
and  laugh  at  death  and  the  grave.  There  they  could 
have  no  such  thoughts  as  are  associated  with  the  village 
graveyard,  —  that  make  a  grave  out  of  one  of  those 
moist  evergreen  hummocks ! 

Die  and  be  buried  who  will, 

I  mean  to  live  here  still; 
My  nature  grows  ever  more  young 

The  primitive  pines  among. 

I  am  reminded  by  my  journey  how  exceedingly  new 
this  country  still  is.  You  have  only  to  travel  for  a  few 
days  into  the  interior  and  back  parts  even  of  many  of 
the  old  States,  to  come  to  that  very  America  which  the 
Northmen,  and  Cabot,  and  Gosnold,  and  Smith,  and  Ra- 
leigh visited.  If  Columbus  was  the  first  to  discover  the 
islands,  Americus  Vespucius  and  Cabot,  and  the  Puri- 
tans, and  we  their  descendants,  have  discovered  only  the 
shores  of  America.  While  the  republic  has  already 
acquired  a  history  world-wide,  America  is  still  unsettled 
and  unexplored.  Like  the  English  in  New  Holland, 
we  live  only  on  the  shores  of  a  continent  even  yet,  and 
hardly  know  where  the  rivers  come  from  which  float 
our  navy.  The  very  timber  and  boards  and  shingles  of 
which  our  houses  are  made,  grew  but  yesterday  in  a 
wilderness  where  the  Indian  still  hunts  and  the  moose 
runs  wild.  New  York  has  her  wilderness  within  her 
own  borders ;  and  though  the  sailors  of  Europe  are 
familiar  with  the  soundings  of  her  Hudson,  and  Fulton 
long  since  invented  the  steamboat  on  its  waters,  an  In- 


KTAADN.  83 

dian  is  still  necessary  to  guide  her  scientific  men  to  its 
head-waters  in  the  Adirondac  country. 

Have  we  even  so  much  as  discovered  and  settled  the 
shores  ?  Let  a  man  travel  on  foot  along  the  coast,  from 
the  Passamaquoddy  to  the  Sabine,  or  to  the  Rio  Bravo, 
or  to  wherever  the  end  is  now,  if  he  is  swift  enough  to 
overtake  it,  faithfully  following  the  windings  of  every 
inlet  and  of  every  cape,  and  stepping  to  the  music  of 
the  surf,  —  with  a  desolate  fishing-town  once  a  week, 
and  a  city's  port  once  a  month  to  cheer  him,  and  putting 
up  at  the  light-houses,  when  there  are  any,  —  and  tell 
me  if  it  looks  like  a  discovered  and  settled  country,  and 
not  rather,  for  the  most  part,  like  a  desolate  island,  and 
No-man's  Land. 

We  have  advanced  by  leaps  to  the  Pacific,  and  left 
many  a  lesser  Oregon  and  California  unexplored  behind 
us.  Though  the  railroad  and  the  telegraph  have  been 
established  on  the  shores  of  Maine,  the  Indian  still 
looks  out  from  her  interior  mountains  over  all  these  to 
the  sea.  There  stands  the  city  of  Bangor,  fifty  miles 
up  the  Penobscot,  at  the  head  of  navigation  for  vessels 
of  the  largest  class,  the  principal  lumber  depot  on  this 
'continent,  with  a  population  of  twelve  thousand,  like  a 
star  on  the  edge  of  night,  still  hewing  at  the  forests  of 
which  it  is  built,  already  overflowing  with  the  luxuries 
and  refinement  of  Europe,  and  sending  its  vessels  to 
Spain,  to  England,  and  to  the  West  Indies  for  its  gro- 
ceries, —  and  yet  only  a  few  axe-men  have  gone  "  up 
river,"  into  the  howling  wilderness  which  feeds  it.  The 
bear  and  deer  are  still  found  within  its  limits ;  and  the 
moose,  as  he  swims  the  Penobscot,  is  entangled  amid 
its  shipping,  and  taken  by  foreign  sailors  in  its  harbor. 
Twelve  miles  in  the  rear,  twelve  miles  of  railroad,  are 


84  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Orono  and  the  Indian  Island,  the  home  of  the  Penob- 
scot  tribe,  and  then  commence  the  batteau  and  the 
canoe,  and  the  military  road;  and  sixty  miles  above, 
the  country  is  virtually  unmapped  and  unexplored,  and 
there  still  waves  the  virgin  forest  of  the  New  World. 


CHESUNCOOK 


AT  5  P.  M.,  September  13th,  1853, 1  left  Boston,  in 
the  steamer,  for  Bangor,  by  the  outside  course.  It  was  a 
warm  and  still  night,  —  warmer,  probably,  on  the  water 
than  on  the  land,  —  and  the*  sea  was  as  smooth  as  a 
small  lake  in  summer,  merely  rippled.  The  passengers 
went  singing  on  the  deck,  as  in  a  parlor,  till  ten  o'clock. 
We  passed  a  vessel  on  her  beam-ends  on  a  rock  just 
outside  the  islands,  and  some  of  us  thought  that  she  was 
the  "  rapt  ship  "  which  ran 

"  on  her  side  so  low 
That  she  drank  water,  and  her  keel  ploughed  air," 

not  considering  that  there  was  no  wind,  and  that  she  was 
under  bare  poles.  Now  we  have  left  the  islands  behind 
and  are  off  Nahant.  We  behold  those  features  which 
the  discoverers  saw,  apparently  unchanged.  Now  we 
see  the  Cape  Ann  lights,  and  now. pass  near  a  small 
village-like  fleet  of  mackerel-fishers  at  anchor,  probably 
off  Gloucester.  They  salute  us  with  a  shout  from  their 
low  decks ;  but  I  understand  their  "  Good  evening  "  to 
mean,  "  Don't  run  against  me,  Sir."  From  the  wonders 
of  the  deep  we  go  below  to  yet  deeper  sleep.  And 
then  the  absurdity  of  being  waked  up  in  the  night  by 
a  man  who  wants  the  job  of  blacking  your  boots !  It  is 
more  inevitable  than  sea-sickness,  and  may  have  some- 


86  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

thing  to  do  with  it.  It  is  like  the  ducking  you  get  on 
crossing  the  line  the  first  time.  I  trusted  that  these  old 
customs  were  abolished.  They  might  with  the  same 
propriety  insist  on  blacking  your  face.  I  heard  of  one 
man  who  complained  that  somebody  had  stolen  his  boots 
in  the  night ;  and  when  he  found  them,  he  wanted  to 
know  what  they  had  done  to  them,  —  they  had  spoiled 
them,  —  he  never  put  that  stuff  on  them  ;  and  the  boot- 
black narrowly  escaped  paying  damages. 

Anxious  to  get  out  of  the  whale's  belly,  I  rose  early, 
and  joined  some  old  salts,  who  were  smoking  by  a  dim 
light  on  a  sheltered  part  of  the  deck.  We  were  just 
getting  into  the  river.  They  knew  all  about  it,  of 
course.  I  was  proud  to  find  that  I  had  stood  the  voy- 
age so  well,  and  was  not  in  the  least  digested.  "VVe 
brushed  up  and  watched  the  first  signs  of  dawn  through 
an  open  port ;  but  the  day  seemed  to  hang  fire.  We 
inquired  the  time ;  none  of  my  .companions  had  a  chro- 
nometer. At  length  an  African  prince  rushed  by,  ob- 
serving, "  Twelve  o'clock,  gentlemen  ! "  and  blew  out  the 
light.  It  was  moon-rise.  So  I  slunk  down  into  the 
monster's  bowels  again. 

The  first  land  we  make  is  Manhegan  Island,  before 
dawn,  and  next  St.  George's  Islands,  seeing  two  or  three 
lights.  Whitehead,  with  its  bare  rocks  and  funereal 
bell,  is  interesting.  Next  I  remember  that  the  Camden 
Hills  attracted  my  eyes,  and  afterward  the  hills  about 
Frankfort.  We  reached  Bangor  about  noon. 

When  I  arrived,  my  companion  that  was  to  be  had 
gone  up  river,  and  engaged  an  Indian,  Joe  Aitteon,  a 
son  of  the  Governor,  to  go  with  us  to  Chesuncook  Lake. 
Joe  had  conducted  two  white  men  a-moose-hunting  in 
the  same  direction  the  year  before.  He  arrived  by  cars 


CHESUNCOOK.  87 

at  Bangor  that  evening,  with  his  canoe  and  a  compan- 
ion, Sabattis  Solomon,  who  was  going  to  leave  Bangor 
the  following  Monday  with  Joe's  father,  by  way  of  the 
Penobscot,  and  join  Joe  in  moose-hunting  at  Chesun- 
cook,  when  we  had  done  with  him.  They  took  supper 
at  my  friend's  house  and  lodged  in  his  barn,  saying  that 
they  should  fare  worse  than  that  in  the  woods.  They 
only  made  Watch  bark  a  little,  when  they  came  to  the 
door  in  the  night  for  water,  for  he  does  not  like  In- 
dians. 

The  next  morning  Joe  and  his  canoe  were  put  on 
board  the  stage  for  Moosehead  Lake,  sixty  and  odd 
miles  distant,  an  hour  before  we  started  in  an  open 
wagon.  We  carried  hard  bread,  pork,  smoked  beef,  tea, 
sugar,  etc.,  seemingly  enough  for  a  regiment ;  the  sight 
of  which  brought  together  reminded  me  by  what  ignoble 
means  we  had  maintained  our  ground  hitherto.  We 
went  by  the  Avenue  Road,  which  is  quite  straight  and 
very  good,  north-westward  toward  Moosehead  Lake, 
through  more  than  a  dozen  flourishing  towns,  with  al- 
most every  one  its  academy,  —  not  one  of  which,  how- 
ever, is  on  my  General  Atlas,  published,  alas  !  in  1824  ; 
so  much  are  they  before  the  age,  or  I  behind  it !  The 
earth  must  have  been  considerably  lighter  to  the  shoul- 
ders of  General  Atlas  then. 

It  rained  all  this  day  and  till  the  middle  of  the  next 
forenoon,  concealing  the  landscape  almost  entirely  ;  but 
we  had  hardly  got  out  of  the  streets  of  Bangor  before  I 
began  to  be  exhilarated  by  the  sight  of  the  wild  fir  and 
spruce-tops,  and  those  of  other  primitive  evergreens, 
peering  through  the  mist  in  the  horizon.  It  was  like 
the  sight  and  odor  of  cake  to  a  schoolboy.  He  who 
rides  and  keeps  the  beaten  track  studies  the  fences 


88  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

chiefly.  Near  Bangor,  the  fence-posts,  on  account  of 
the  frost's  heaving  them  in  the  clayey  soil,  were  not 
planted  in  the  ground,  but  were  mortised  into  a  trans- 
verse horizontal  beam  lying  on  the  surface.  After- 
wards, the  prevailing  fences  were  log  ones,  with  some- 
times a  Virginia  fence,  or  else  rails  slanted  over  crossed 
stakes,  —  and  these  zigzagged  or  played  leap-frog  all 
the  way  to  the  lake,  keeping  just  ahead  of  us.  After 
getting  out  of  the  Penobscot  Valley,  the  country  was 
unexpectedly  level,  or  consisted  of  very  even  and  equal 
swells,  for  twenty  or  thirty  miles,  never  rising  above  the 
general  level,  but  affording,  it  is  said,  a  very  good  pros- 
pect in  clear  weather,  with  frequent  views  of  Ktaadn,  — 
straight  roads  and  long  hills.  The  houses  were  far 
apart,  commonly  small  and  of  one  story,  but  framed. 
There  was  very  little  land  under  cultivation,  yet  the  forest 
did  not  often  border  the  road.  The  stumps  were  fre- 
quently as  high  as  one's  head,  showing  the  depth  of 
the  snows.  The  white  hay-caps,  drawn  over  small 
stacks  of  beans  or  corn  in  the  fields,  on  account  of  the 
rain,  were  a  novel  sight  to  me.  We  saw  large  flocks  of 
pigeons,  and  several  times  came  within  a  rod  or  two  of 
partridges  in  the  road.  My  companion  said,  that,  in 
one  journey  out  of  Bangor,  he  and  his  son  had  shot  sixty 
partridges  from  his  buggy.  The  mountain-ash  was  now 
very  handsome,  as  also  the  wayfarer's-tree  or  hobble- 
bush,  with  its  ripe  purple  berries  mixed  with  red.  The 
Canada  thistle,  an  introduced  plant,  was  the  prevailing 
weed  all  the  way  to  the  lake,  —  the  road-side  in  many 
places,  and  fields  not  long  cleared,  being  densely  filled 
with  it  as  with  a  crop,  to  the  exclusion  of  everything 
else.  There  were  also  whole  fields  full  of  ferns,  now 
rusty  and  withering,  which  in  older  countries  are  com- 


CHESUNCOOK.  89 

monly  confined  to  wet  ground.  There  were  very  few 
flowers,  even  allowing  for  the  lateness  of  the  season.  It 
chanced  that  I  saw  no  asters  in  bloom  along  the  road  for 
fifty  miles,  though  they  were  so  abundant  then  in  Massa- 
chusetts, —  except  in  one  place  one  or  two  of  the  Aster 
acuminatus,  —  and  no  golden-rods  till  within  twenty 
miles  of  Monson,  where  I  saw  a  three-ribbed  one. 
There  were  many  late  buttercups,  however,  and  the 
two  fire-weeds,  Erechthites  and  Epilobium,  commonly 
where  there  had  been  a  burning,  and  at  last  the  pearly 
everlasting.  I  noticed  occasionally  very  long  troughs 
which  supplied  the  road  with  water,  and  my  companion 
said  that  three  dollars  annually  were  granted  by  the 
State  to  one  man  in  each  school-district,  who  provided 
and  maintained  a  suitable  water-trough  by  the  road-side, 
for  the  use  of  travellers,  —  a  piece  of  intelligence  as 
refreshing  to  me  as  the  water  itself.  That  legislature 
did  not  sit  in  vain.  It  was  an  Oriental  act,  which  made 
me  wish  that  I  was  still  farther  down  East,  —  another 
Maine  law,  which  I  hope  we  may  get  in  Massachusetts. 
That  State  is  banishing  bar-rooms  from  its  highways, 
and  conducting  the  mountain-springs  thither. 

The  country  was  first  decidedly  mountainous  in--Oar- 
land,  Sangerville,  and  onwards,  twenty-five  or  thirty 
miles  from  Bangor.  At  Sangerville,  where  we  stopped 
at  mid-afternoon  to  warm  and  dry  ourselves,  the  land- 
lord told  us  that  he  had  found  a  wilderness  where  we 
found  him.  At  a  fork  in  the  road  between  Abbot  and 
Monson,  about  twenty  miles  from  Moosehead  Lake,  I 
saw  a  guide-post  surmounted  by  a  pair  of  Moose-horns, 
spreading  four  or  five  feet,  with  the  word  "  Monson  " 
painted  on  one  blade,  and  the  name  of  some  other  town 
on  the  other.  They  are  sometimes  used  for  ornamental 


90  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

hat-trees,  together  with  deers'  horns,  in  front  entries  ; 
but,  after  the  experience  which  I  shall  relate,  I  trust 
that  I  shall  have  a  better  excuse  for  killing  a  moose 
than  that  I  may  hang  my  hat  on  his  horns.  We  reached 
Monson,  fifty  miles  from  Bangor,  and  thirteen  from  the 
lake,  after  dark. 

At  four  o'clock  the  next  morning,  in  the  dark,  and 
still  in  the  rain,  we  pursued  our  journey.  Close  to  the 
academy  in  this  town  they  have  erected  a  sort  of  gal- 
lows for  the  pupils  to  practice  on.  I  thought  that  they 
might  as  well  hang  at  once  all  who  need  to  go  through 
such  exercises  in  so  new  a  country,  where  there  is  noth- 
ing to  hinder  their  living  an  out-door  life.  Better  omit 
Blair,  and  take  the  air.  The  country  about  the  south 
end  of  the  lake  is  quite  mountainous,  and  the  road  began 
to  feel  the  effects  of  it.  There  is  one  hill  which,  it  is 
calculated,  it  takes  twenty-five  minutes  to  ascend.  In 
many  places  the  road  was  in  that  condition  called  re- 
paired, having  just  been  whittledjnto  the  required  semi- 
cylindrical  form  with  the  shovel  and  scraper,  with  all 
the  softest  inequalities  in  the  middle,  like  a  hog's  back 
with  the  bristles  up,  and  Jehu  was  expected  to  keep 
astride  of  the  spine.  As  you  looked  off  each  side  of  the 
bare  sphere  into  the  horizon,  the  ditches  were  awful  to 
behold,  —  a  vast  hollowness,  like  that  between  Saturn 
and  his  ring.  At  a  tavern  hereabouts  the  hostler 
greeted  our  horse  as  an  old  acquaintance,  though  he  did 
not  remember  the  driver.  He  said  that  he  had  taken 
care  of  that  little  mare  for  a  short  time,  a  year  or  two 
before,  at  the  Mount  Kineo  House,  and  thought  she  was 
not  in  as  good  condition  as  then.  Every  man  to  his 
trade.  I  am  not  acquainted  with  a  single  horse  in  the 
world,  not  even  the  one  that  kicked  me. 


CHESUNCOOK.  91 

Already  we  had  thought  that  we  saw  Moosehead 
Lake  from  a  hill-top^  where  an  extensive  fog  filled  the 
distant  lowlands,  but  we  were  mistaken.  It  was  not 
till  we  were  within  a  mile  or  two  of  its  south  end  that 
we  got  -our  first  view  of  it,  —  a  suitably  wild-looking 
sheet  of  water,  sprinkled  with  small,  low  islands,  which 
were  covered  with  shaggy  spruce  and  other  wild  wood, 
—  seen  over  the  infant  port  of  Greenville,  with  moun- 
tains on  each  side  and  far  in  the  north,  and  a*  steamer's 
smoke-pipe  rising  above  a  roof.  A  pair  of  moose-horns 
ornamented  a  corner  of  the  public-house  where  we  left 
our  horse,  and  a  few  rods  distant  lay  the  small  steamer 
Moosehead,  Captain  King.  There  was  no  village,  and 
no  summer  road  any  farther  in  this  direction,  —  but  a 
winter  road,  that  is,  one  passable  only  when  deep 
snow  covers  its  inequalities,  from  Greenville  up  the 
east  side  of  the  lake  to  Lily  Bay,  about  twelve  miles. 

I  was  here  first  introduced  to  Joe.  He  had  ridden 
all  the  way  on  the  outside  of  the  stage,  the  day  before, 
in  the  rain,  giving  way  to  ladies,  and  was  well  wetted. 
As  it  still  rained,  he  asked  if  we  were  going  to  "  put 
it  through."  He  was  a  good-looking  Indian,  twenty- 
four  years  old,  apparently  of  unmixed  blood,  short  and 
stout,  with  a  broad  face  and  reddish  complexion,  and 
eyes,  methinks,  narrower  and  more  turned-up  at  the 
outer  corners  than  ours,  answering  to  the  description 
of  his  race.  Beside  his  under-clothing,  he  wore  a  red- 
flannel  shirt,  woollen  pants,  and  a  black  Kossuth  hat, 
the  ordinary  dress  of  the  lumberman,  and,  to  a  consid- 
erable extent,  of  the  Penobscot  Indian.  When,  after- 
ward, he  had  occasion  to  take  off  his  shoes  and  stock- 
ings, I  was  struck  with  the  smallness  of  his  feet.  He 
had  worked  a  good  deal  as  a  lumberman,  and  appeared 


92  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

to  identify  himself  with  that  class.  He  was  the  only 
one  of  the  party  who  possessed  an  India-rubber  jacket. 
The  top  strip  or  edge  of  his  canoe  was  worn  nearly 
through  by  friction  on  the  stage. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  steamer,  with  her  bell  and  whistle, 
scaring  the  moose,  summoned  us  on  board.  She  was  a 
well-appointed  little  boat,  commanded  by  a  gentlemanly 
captain,  with  patent  life-seats  and  metallic  life-boat,  and 
dinner  on  board,  if  you  wish.  She  is  chiefly  used  by 
lumberers  for  the  transportation  of  themselves,  their 
boats,  and  supplies,  but  also  by  hunters  and  tourists. 
There  was  another  steamer,  named  Amphitrite,  laid  up 
close  by ;  but,  apparently,  her  name  was  not  more  trite 
than  her  hull.  There  were  also  two  or  three  large  sail- 
boats in  port.  These  beginnings  of  commerce  on  a 
lake  in  the  wilderness  are  very  interesting,  —  these 
larger  white  birds  that  come  to  keep  company  with  the 
gulls.  There  were  but  few  passengers,  and  not  one 
female  among  them :  a  St.  Francis  Indian,  with  his 
canoe  and  moose-hides,  two  explorers  for  lumber,  three 
men  who  landed  at  Sandbar  Island,  and  a  gentleman 
who  lives  on  Deer  Island,  eleven  miles  up  the  lake, 
and  owns  also  Sugar  Island,  between  which  and  the 
former  the  steamer  runs;  these,  I  think,  were  all  be- 
side ourselves.  In  the  saloon  was  some  kind  of  musical 
instrument,  cherubim,  or  seraphim,  to  soothe  the  angry 
waves;  and  there,  very  properly,  was  tacked  up  the 
map  of  the  public  lands  of  Maine  and  Massachusetts, 
a  copy  of  which  I  had  in  my  pocket. 

The  heavy  rain  confining  us  to  the  saloon"  awhile,  I 
discoursed  with  the  proprietor  of  Sugar  Island  on  the 
condition  of  the  world  in  Old  Testament  times.  But 
at  length,  leaving  this  subject  as  fresh  as  we  found  it, 


CHESUNCOOK.  93 

he  told  me  that  he  had  lived  about  this  lake  twenty  or 
thirty  years,  and  yet  had  not  been  to  the  head  of  it  for 
twenty-one  years.  He  faces  the  other  way.  The  ex- 
plorers had  a  fine  new  birch  on  board,  larger  than  ours, 
in  which  they  had  come  up  the  Piscataquis  from  How- 
land,  and  they  had  had  several  messes  of  trout  already. 
They  were  going  to  the  neighborhood  of  Eagle  and 
Chamberlain  Lakes,  or  the  head-waters  of  the  St.  John, 
and  offered  to  keep  us  company  as  far  as  we  went. 
The  lake  to-day  was  rougher  than  I  found  the  ocean, 
either  going  or  returning,  and  Joe  remarked  that  it 
would  swamp  his  birch.  Off  Lily  Bay  it  is  a  dozen 
miles  wide,  but  it  is  much  broken  by  islands.  The 
scenery  is  not  merely  wild,  but  varied  and  interesting ; 
mountains  were  seen,  farther  or  nearer,  on  all  sides  but 
the  northwest,  their  summits  now  lost  in  the  clouds; 
but  Mount  Kineo  is  the  principal  feature  of  the  lake, 
and  more  exclusively  belongs  to  it.  After  leaving 
Greenville,  at  the  foot,  which  is  the  nucleus  of  a  town 
some  eight  or  ten  years  old,  you  see  but  three  or  four 
houses  for  the  whole  length  of  the  lake,  or  about  forty 
miles,  three  of  them  the  public  houses  at  which  the 
steamer  is  advertised  to  stop,  and  the  shore  is  an  un- 
broken wilderness.  The  prevailing  wood  seemed  to  be 
spruce,  fir,  birch,  and  rock-maple.  You  could  easily 
distinguish  the  hard  wood  from  the  soft,  or  "black 
growth,"  as  it  is  called,  at  a  great  distance,  —  the  for- 
mer being  smooth,  round -topped,  and  light  green,  with  a 
bowery  and  cultivated  look. 

Mount  Kineo,  at  which  the  boat  touched,  is  a  penin- 
sula with  a  narrow  neck,  about  midway  tlie  lake  on  the 
east  side.  The  celebrated  precipice  is  on  the  east  or 
land  side  of  this,  and  is  so  high  and  perpendicular  that 


94  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

you  can  jump  from  the  top,  many  hundred  feet,  into  the 
water,  which  makes  up  behind  the  point.  A  man  on 
board  told  us  that  an  anchor  had  been  sunk  ninety  fath- 
oms at  its  base  before  reaching  bottom !  Probably  it 
will  be  discovered  erelong  that  some  Indian  maiden 
jumped  off  it  for  love  once,  for  true  love  never  could 
have  found  a  path  more  to  its  mind.  We  passed  quite 
close  to  the  rock  here,  since  it  is  a  very  bold  shore,  and 
I  observed  marks  of  a  rise  of  four  or  five  feet  on  it. 
The  St.  Francis  Indian  expected  to  take  in  his  boy  here, 
but  he  was  not  at  the  landing.  The  father's  sharp  eyes, 
however,  detected  a  canoe  with  his  boy  in  it  far  away 
under  the  mountain,  though  no  one  else  could  see  it. 
"  Where  is  the  canoe  ?  "  asked  the  captain,  "  I  don't  see 
it"  ;  but  he  held  on,  nevertheless,  and  by  and  by  it  hove 
in  sight. 

We  reached  the  head  of  the  lake  about  noon.  The 
weather  had,  in  the  meanwhile,  cleared  up,  though  the 
mountains  were  still  capped  with  clouds.  Seen  from  this 
point,  Mount  Kineo,  and  two  other  allied  mountains  rang- 
ing with  it  northeasterly,  presented  a  very  strong  family 
likeness,  as  if  all  cast  in  one  mould.  The  steamer  here 
approached  a  long  pier  projecting  from  the  northern 
wilderness,  and  built  of  some  of  its  logs,  —  and  whistled, 
where  not  a  cabin  nor  a  mortal  was  to  be  seen.  The 
shore  was  quite  low,  with  flat  rocks  on  it,  overhung  with 
black  ash,  arbor-vita?,  etc.,  which  at  first  looked  as  if 
they  did  not  care  a  whistle  for  us.  There  was  not  a 
single  cabman  to  cry  "  Coach ! "  or  inveigle  us  to  the 
United  States  Hotel.  At  length  a  Mr.  Hinckley,  who 
has  a  camp  at  the  other .  end  of  the  "  carry,"  appeared 
with  a  truck  drawn  by  an  ox  and  a  horse  over  a  rude 
log-railway  through  the  woods.  The  next  thing  was  to 


CHESUNCOOK.  95 

get  our  canoe  and  effects  over  the  carry  from  this  lake, 
one  of  the  heads  of  the  Kennebec,  into  the  Penobscot 
River.  This  railway  from  the  lake  to  the  river  occu- 
pied the  middle  of  a  clearing  two  or  three  rods  wide 
and  perfectly  straight  through  the  forest.  We  walked 
across  while  our  baggage  was  drawn  behind.  My  com- 
panion went  ahead  to  be  ready  for  partridges,  while  I 
followed,  looking  at  the  plants. 

This  was  an  interesting  botanical  locality  for  one  com- 
ing from  the  South  to  commence  with ;  for  many  plants 
which  are  rather  rare,  and  one  or  two  which  are  not 
found  at  all,  in  the  eastern  part  of  Massachusetts,  grew 
abundantly  between  the  rails,  —  as  Labrador  tea,  Kalmia 
glauca,  Canada  blueberry  (which  was  still  in  fruit,  and 
a  second  time  in  bloom),  Clintonia  and  Linnaea  borealis, 
which  last  a  lumberer  called  moxon,  creeping  snowberry, 
painted  trillium,  large-flowered  bellwort,  etc.  I  fancied 
that  the  Aster  sradula,  Diplopappus  umbellatus,  Solidagb 
lanceolatus,  red  trumpet-weed,  and  many  others  which 
were  conspicuously  in  bloom  on  the  shore  of  the  lake 
and  on  the  carry,  had  a  peculiarly  wild  and  primitive 
look  there.  The  spruce  and  fir  trees  crowded  to  the 
track  on  each  side  to  welcome  us,  the  arbor-vitas,  with 
its  changing  leaves,  prompted  us  to  make  haste,  and  the 
sight  of  the  canoe-birch  gave  us  spirits  to  do  so.  Some- 
times an  evergreen  just  fallen  lay  across  the  track  with 
its  rich  burden  of  cones,  looking,  still,  fuller  of  life  than 
our  trees  in  the  most  favorable  positions.  You  did  not 
expect  to  find  such  spruce  trees  in  the  wild  woods,  but 
they  evidently  attend  to  their  toilets  each  morning  even 
there.  Through  such  a  front-yard  did  we  enter  that 
wilderness. 

There  was  a  very  slight  rise  above  the  lake,  —  the 


96  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

country  appearing  like,  and  perhaps  being,  partly  a 
swamp,  —  and  at  length  a  gradual  descent  to  the  Penob- 
scot,  which  I  was  surprised  to  find  here  a  large  stream, 
from  twelve  to  fifteen  rods  wide,  flowing  from  west  to 
east,  or  at  right  angles  with  the  lake,  and  not  more  than 
two  and  a  half  miles  from  it.  The  distance  is  nearly 
twice  too  great  on  the  Map  of  the  Public  Lands,  and  on 
Colton's  Map  of  Maine,  and  Russell  Stream  is  placed 
too  far  down.  Jackson  makes  Moosehead  Lake  to  be 
nine  hundred  and  sixty  feet  above  high  water  in  Port- 
land harbor.  It  is  higher  than  Chesuncook,  for  the  lum- 
berers consider  the  Penobscot,  where  we  struck  it, 
twenty -five  feet  lower  than  Moosehead,  —  though  eight 
miles  above  it  is  said  to  be  the  highest,  so  that  the  water 
can  be  made  to  flow  either  way,  and  the  river  falls  a 
good  deal  between  here  and  Chesuncook.  The  carry- 
man  called  this  about  one  hundred  and  forty  miles 
above  Bangor  by  the  river,  or  two  hundred  from  the 
ocean,  and  fifty-five  miles  below  Hilton's,  on  the  Canada 
road,  the  first  clearing  above,  which  is  four  and  a  half 
miles  from  the  source  of  the  Penobscot. 

At  the  north  end  of  the  carry,  in  the  midst  of  a  clear- 
ing of  sixty  acres  or  more,  there  was  a  log  camp  of  the 
usual  construction,  with  something  more  like  a  house 
adjoining,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  carryman's  fam- 
ily and  passing  lumberers.  The  bed  of  withered  fir- 
twigs  smelled  very  sweet,  though  really  very  dirty. 
There  was  also  a  store-house  on  the  bank  of  the  river, 
containing  pork,  flour,  iron,  batteaux,  and  birches,  locked 
up. 

We  now  proceeded  to  get  our  dinner,  which  always 
turned  out  to  be  tea,  and  to  pitch  canoes,  for  which  pur- 
pose a  large  iron  pot  lay  permanently  on  the  bank. 


CHESUNCOOK.  97 

This  we  did  in  company  with  the  explorers.  Both  In- 
dians and  whites  use  a  mixture  of  rosin  and  grease  for 
this  purpose,  —  that  is,  for  the  pitching,  not  the  dinner. 
Joe  took  a  small  brand  from  the  fire  and  blew  the  heat 
and  flame  against  the  pitch  on  his  birch,  and  so  melted 
and  spread  it.  Sometimes  he  put  his  mouth  over  the 
suspected  spot  and  sucked,  to  see  if  it  admitted  air ;  and 
at  one  place,  where  we  stopped,  he  set  his  canoe  high  on 
crossed  stakes,  and  poured  water  into  it.  I  narrowly 
watched  his  motions,  and  listened  attentively  to  Ms 
observations,  for  we  had  employed  an  Indian  mainly 
that  I  might  have  an  opportunity  to  study  his  ways.  I 
heard  him  swear  once,  mildly,  during  this  operation, 
about  his  knife  being  as  dull  as  a  hoe,  —  an  accomplish- 
ment which  he  owed  to  his  intercourse  with  the  whites ; 
and  he  remarked,  "  We  ought  to  have  some  tea  before 
we  start;  we  shall  be  hungry  before  we  kill  that 
moose." 

At  mid-afternoon  we  embarked  on  the  Penobscot. 
Our  birch  was  nineteen  and  a  half  feet  long  by  two  and 
a  half  at  the  widest  part,  and  fourteen  inches  deep  with- 
in, both  ends  alike,  and  painted  green,  which  Joe  thought 
affected  the  pitch  and  made  it  leak.  This,  I  think,  was 
a  middling-sized  one.  That  of  the  explorers  was  much 
larger,  though  probably  not  much  longer.  This  carried 
us  three  with  our  baggage,  weighing  in  all  between  five 
hundred  and  fifty  and  six  hundred  pounds.  "We  had 
two  heavy,  though  slender,  rock-maple  paddles,  one  of 
them  of  bird's-eye  maple.  Joe  placed  birch-bark  on 
the  bottom  for  us  to  sit  on,  and  slanted  cedar  splints 
against  the  cross-bars  to  protect  our  backs,  while  he  him- 
self sat  upon  a  cross-bar  in  the  stern.  The  baggage 
•occupied  the  middle  or  widest  part  of  the  canoe.  We 


98  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

also  paddled  by  turns  in  the  bows,  now  sitting  with  our 
legs  extended,  now  sitting  upon  our  legs,  and  now  rising 
upon  our  knees ;  but  I  found  none  of  these  positions  en- 
durable, and  was  reminded  of  the  complaints  of  the  old 
Jesuit  missionaries  of  the  torture  they  endured  from 
long  confinement  in  constrained  positions  in  canoes,  in 
their  long  voyages  from  Quebec  to  the  Huron  country ; 
but  afterwards  I  sat  on  the  cross-bars,  or  stood  up,  and 
experienced  no  inconvenience. 

It  was  dead  water  for  a  couple  of  miles.  The  river 
had  been  raised  about  two  feet  by  the  rain,  and  lumber- 
ers were  hoping  for  a  flood  sufficient  to  bring  down  the 
logs  that  were  left  in  the  spring.  Its  banks  were  seven 
or  eight  feet  high,  and  densely  covered  with  white  and 
black  spruce,  —  which,  I  think,  must  be  the  commonest 
trees  thereabouts,  —  fir,  arbor-vitae,  canoe,  yellow,  and 
black  birch,  rock,  mountain,  and  a  few  red  maples, 
beech,  black  and  mountain  ash,  the  large-toothed  aspen, 
many  civil  looking  elms,  now  imbrowned,  along  the 
stream,  and  at  first  a  few  hemlocks  also.  We  had  not 
gone  far  before  I  was  startled  by  seeing  what  I  thought 
was  an  Indian  encampment,  covered  with  a  red  flag,  on 
the  bank,  and  exclaimed,  "  Camp  ! "  to  my  comrades.  I 
was  slow  to  discover  that  it  was  a  red  maple  changed 
by  the  frost.  The  immediate  shores  were  also  densely 
covered  with  the  speckled  alder,  red  osier,  shrubby- 
willows  or  sallows,  and  the  like.  There  were  a  few 
yellow-lily-pads  still  left,  half-drowned,  along  the  sides, 
and  sometimes  a  white  one.  Many  fresh  tracks  of 
moose  were  visible  where  the  water  was  shallow,  and 
on  the  shore,  and  the  lily-stems  were  freshly  bitten  off 
by  them. 

After  paddling  about  two  miles,  we  parted  company 


CHESUNCOOK.  99 

i 

with  the  explorers,  and  turned  up  Lobster  Stream, 
which  comes  in  on  the  right,  from  the  southeast.  This 
was  six  or  eight  rods  wide,  and  appeared  to  run  nearly 
parallel  with  the  Penobscot.  Joe  said  that  it  was  so 
called  from  small  fresh-water  lobsters  found  in  it.  It  is 
the  Matahumkeag  of  the  maps.  My  companion  wished 
to  look  for  moose  signs,  and  intended,  if  it  proved  worth 
the  while,  to  camp  up  that  way,  since  the  Indian  ad- 
vised it.  On  account  of  the  rise  of  the  Penobscot  the 
water  ran  up  this  stream  quite  to  the  pond  of  the  same 
name,  one  or  two  miles.  The  Spencer  Mountains,  east 
of  the  north  end  of  Moosehead  Lake,  were  now  in  plain 
sight  in  front  of  us.  The  kingfisher  flew  before  us,  the 
pigeon  woodpecker  was  seen  and  heard,  and  nuthatches 
and  chicadees  close  at  hand.  Joe  said  that  they  called 
the  chicadee  kecunnilessu  in  his  language.  I  will  not 
vouch  for  the  spelling  of  what  possibly  was  never  spelt 
before,  but  I  pronounced  after  him  till  he  said  it  would 
do.  We  passed  close  to  a  woodcock,  which  stood  per- 
fectly still  on  the  shore,  with  feathers  puffed  up,  as  if 
sick.  This  Joe  said  they  called  nipsquecohossus.  The 
kingfisher  was  skuscumonsuck ;  bear  was  wassus ;  In- 
dian Devil,  lunxus  ;  the  mountain-ash,  upahsis.  This 
was  very  abundant  and  beautiful.  Moose-tracks  were 
not  so  fresh  along  this  stream,  except  in  a  small  creek 
about  a  mile  up  it,  where  a  large  log  had  lodged  in  the 
spring,  marked  "  W-cross-girdle-crow-foot."  .We  saw 
a  pair  of  moose-horns  on  the  shore,  and  I  asked  Joe 
if  a  moose  had  shed  them ;  but  he  said  there  was  a 
head  attached  to  them,  and  I  knew  that  they  did  not 
shed  their  heads  more  than  once  in  their  lives.  . 

After  ascending  about  a  mile  and  a  half,  to  within 
a  short  distance  of  Lobster  Lake,  we  returned  to  the 


100  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

« 

Penobscot.  Just  below  the  mouth  of  the  Lobster  we 
found  quick  water,  and  the  river  expanded  to  twenty  or 
thirty  rods  in  width.  The  moose-tracks  were  quite  nu- 
merous and  fresh  here.  We  noticed  in  a  great  many 
places  narrow  and  well-trodden  paths  by  which  they  had 
come  down  to  the  river,  and  where  they  had  slid  on  the 
steep  and  clayey  bank.  Their  tracks  were  either  close 
to  the  edge  of  the  stream,  those  of  the  calves  distinguish- 
able from  the  others,  or  in  shallow  water;  the  holes 
made  by  their  feet  in  the  soft  bottom  being  visible  for 
a  long  time.  They  were  particularly  numerous  where 
there  was  a  small  bay,  or  pokelogan,  as  it  is  called, 
bordered  by  a  strip  of  meadow,  or  separated  from  the 
river  by  a  low  peninsula  covered  with  coarse  grass, 
wool-grass,  etc.,  wherein  they  had  waded  back  and  forth 
and  eaten  the  pads.  We  detected  the  remains  of  one 
in  such  a  spot.  At  one  place,  where  we  landed  to  pick 
up  a  summer  duck,  which  my  companion  had  shot,  Joe 
peeled  a  canoe-birch  for  bark  for  his  hunting-horn.  He 
then  asked  if  we  were  not  going  to  get  the  other  duck, 
for  his  sharp  eyes  had  seen  another  fall  in  the  bushes 
a  little  farther  along,  and  my  companion  obtained  it. 
I  now  began  to  notice  the  bright  red  berries  of  the  tree- 
cranberry,  which  grows  eight  or  ten  feet  high,  mingled 
with  the  alders  and  cornel  along  the  shore.  There  was 
less  hard  wood  than  at  first. 

After  proceeding  a  mile  and  three  quarters  below  the 
mouth  of  the  Lobster,  we  reached,  about  sundown,  a 
small  island  at  the  head  of  what  Joe  called  the  Moose- 
horn  Dead-water,  (the  Moosehorn,  in  which  he  was  go- 
ing to  hunt  that  night,,  coming  in  about  three  miles 
below,)  and  on  the  upper  end  of  this  we  decided  to 
camp.  On  a  point  at  the  lower  end  lay  the  carcass  of 


CHESUNCOOK.  101 

a  moose  killed  a  month  or  more  before.  We  concluded 
merely  to  prepare  our  camp,  and  leave  our  baggage 
here,  that  all  might  be  ready  when  we  returned  from 
moose-hunting.  Though  I  had  not  come  a-hunting,  and 
felt  some  compunctions  about  accompanying  the  hunters, 
I  wished  to  see  a  moose  near  at  hand,  and  was  not  sorry 
to  learn  how  the  Indian  managed  to  kill  one.  I  went 
as  reporter  or  chaplain  to  the  hunters,  —  and  the  chap- 
lain has  been  known  to  carry  a  gun  himself.  After 
clearing  a  small  space  amid  the  dense  spruce  and  fir 
trees,  we  covered  the  damp  ground  with  a  shingling  of 
fir-twigs,  and,  while  Joe  was  preparing  his  birch-horn 
and  pitching  his  canoe,  —  for  this  had  to  be  done  when- 
ever we  stopped  long  enough  to  build  a  fire,  and  was 
the  principal  labor  which  he  took  upon  himself  at  such 
times,  —  we  collected  fuel  for  the  night,  large  wet  and 
rotting  logs,  which  had  lodged  at  the  head  of  the  island, 
for  our  hatchet  was  too  small  for  effective  chopping ;  but 
we  did  not  kindle  a  fire,  lest  the  moose  should  smell  it. 
Joe  set  up  a  couple  of  forked  stakes,  and  prepared  half 
a  dozen  poles,  ready  to  cast  one  of  our  blankets  over 
in  case  it  rained  in  the  night,  which  precaution,  how- 
ever, was  omitted  the  next  night.  We  also  plucked  the 
ducks  which  had  been  killed  for  breakfast. 

While  we  were  thus  engaged  in  the  twilight,  we 
heard  faintly,  from  far  down  the  stream,  what  sounded 
like  two  strokes  of  a  woodchopper's  axe,  echoing  dully 
through  the  grim  solitude.  We  are  wont  to  liken  many 
sounds,  heard  at  a  distance  in  the  forest,  to  the  stroke 
of  an  axe,  because  they  resemble  each  other  under  those 
circumstances,  and  that  is  the  one  we  commonly  hear 
there.  When  we  told  Joe  of  this,  he  exclaimed,  "  By 
George,  I  '11  bet  that  was  a  moose !  They  make  a  noise 


102  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

like  that."  These  sounds  affected  us  strangely,  and  by 
their  very  resemblance  to  a  familiar  one,  where  they 
probably  had  so  different  an  origin,  enhanced  the  im- 
pression of  solitude  and  wildness. 

At  starlight  we  dropped  down  the  stream,  which  was 
a  dead-water  for  three  miles,  or  as  far  as  the  Moose- 
horn  ;  Joe  telling  us  that  we  must  be  very  silent,  and 
he  himself  making  no  noise  with  his  paddle,  while  he 
urged  the  canoe  along  with  effective  impulses.  It  was 
a  still  night,  and  suitable  for  this  purpose,  —  for  if  there 
is  wind,  the  moose  will  smell  you,  —  and  Joe  was  very 
confident  that  he  should  get  some.  The  harvest  moon 
had  just  risen,  and  its  level  rays  began  to  light  up  the 
forest  on  our  right,  while  we  glided  downward  in  the 
shade  on  the  same  side,  against  the  little  breeze  that 
was  stirring.  The  lofty,  spiring  tops  of  the  spruce  and 
fir  were  very  black  against  the  sky,  and  more  distinct 
than  by  day,  close  bordering  this  broad  avenue  on  each 
side;  and  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  as  the  moon  rose 
above  the  forest,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  describe.  A 
bat  flew  over  our  heads,  and  we  heard  a  few  faint  notes 
of  birds  from  time  to  time,  perhaps  the  myrtle-bird  for 
one,  or  the  sudden  plunge  of  a  musquash,  or  saw  one 
crossing  the  stream  before  us,  or  heard  the  sound  of  a 
rill  emptying  in,  swollen  by  the  recent  rain.  About  a 
mile  below  the  island,  when  the  solitude  seemed  to  be 
growing  more  complete  every  moment,  we  suddenly  saw 
the  light  and  heard  the  crackling  of  a  fire  on  the  bank, 
and  discoverd  the  camp  of  the  two  explorers  ;  they  stand- 
ing before  it  in  their  red  shirts,  and  talking  aloud  of  the 
adventures  and  profits  of  the  day.  They  were  just 
then  speaking  of  a  bargain,  in  which,  as  I  understood, 
somebody  had  cleared  twenty-five  dollars.  We  glided 


CHESUNCOOK.  103 

by  without  speaking,  close  under  the  bank,  within  a 
couple  of  rods  of  them ;  and  Joe,  taking  his  horn,  imi- 
tated the  call  of  the  moose,  till  we  suggested  that  they 
might  fire  on  us.  This  was  the  last  we  saw  of  them, 
and  we  never  knew  whether  they  detected  or  suspected 
us. 

I  have  often  wished  since  that  I  was  with  them. 
They  search  for  timber  over  a  given  section,  climbing 
hills  and  often  high  trees  to  look  off,  —  explore  the 
streams  by  which  it  is  to  be  driven,  and  the  like,  — 
spend  five  or  six  weeks  in  the  woods,  they  two  alone,  a 
hundred  miles  or  more  from  any  town,  —  roaming  about, 
and  sleeping  on  the  ground  where  night  overtakes  them, 
—  depending  chiefly  on  the  provisions  they  carry  with 
them,  though  they  do  not  decline  what  game  they  come 
across,  —  and  then  in  the  fall  they  return  and  make 
report  to  their  employers,  determining  the  number  of 
teams  that  will  be  required  the  following  winter.  Ex- 
perienced men  get  three  or  four  dollars  a  day  for  this 
work.  It  is  a  solitary  and  adventurous  life,  and  comes 
nearest  to  that  of  the  trapper  of  the  West,  perhaps. 
They  work  ever  with  a  gun  as  well  as  an  axe,  let  their 
beards  grow,  and  live  without  neighbors,  not  on  an  open 
plain,  but  far  within  a  wilderness. 

This  discovery  accounted  for  the  sounds  which  we 
had  heard,  and  destroyed  the  prospect  of  seeing  moose 
yet  awhile.  At  length,  when  we  had  left  the  explorers 
far  behind,  Joe  laid  down  his  paddle,  drew  forth  his 
birch  horn,  —  a  straight  one,  about  fifteen  inches  long 
and  three  or  four  wide  at  the  mouth,  tied  round  with 
strips  of  the  same  bark,  —  and  standing  up,  imitated  the 
call  of  the  moose, —  ugh-ugh-ugh,  or  00-00-00-00,  and  then 
a  prolonged  00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0,  and  listened  attentively 


104  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

for  several  -minutes.  We  asked  him  what  kind  of 
noise  he  expected  to  hear.  He  said,  that,  if  a  moose 
heard  it,  he  guessed  we  should  find  out ;  we  should 
hear  him  coming  half  a  mile  off;  he  would  come  close 
to,  perhaps  into,  the  water,  and  my  companion  must 
wait  till  he  got  fair  sight,  and  then  aim  just  behind  the 
shoulder. 

The  moose  venture  out  to  the  river-side  to  feed  and 
drink  at  night.  Earlier  in  the  season  the  hunters  do 
not  use  a  horn  to  call  them  out,  but  steal  upon  them  as 
they  are  feeding  along  the  sides  of  the  stream,  and  often 
the  first  notice  they  have  of  one  is  the  sound  of  the 
water  dropping  from  its  muzzle.  An  Indian  whom  I 
heard  imitate  the  voice  of  the  moose,  and  also  that  of 
the  caribou  and  the  deer,  using  a  much  longer  horn  than 
Joe's,  told  me  that  the  first  could  be  heard  eight  or  ten 
miles,  sometimes  ;  it  was  a  loud  sort  of  bellowing  sound, 
clearer  and  more  sonorous  than  the  lowing  of  cattle,  — 
the  caribou's  a  sort  of  snort,  —  and  the  small  deer's  like 
that  of  a  lamb. 

At  length  we  turned  up  the  Moosehorn,  where  the 
Indians  at  the  carry  had  told  us  that  they  killed  a  moose 
the  night  before.  This  is  a  very  meandering  stream, 
only  a  rod  or  two  in  width,  but  comparatively  deep, 
coming  in  on  the  right,  fitly  enough  named  Moosehorn, 
whether  from  its  windings  or  its  inhabitants.  It  was 
bordered  here  and  there  by  narrow  meadows  between 
the  stream  and  the  endless  forest,  affording  favorable 
places  for  the  moose  to  feed,  and  to  call  them  out  on. 
We  'proceeded  hah0  a  mile  up  this,  as  through  a  narrow, 
winding  canal,  where  the  tall,  dark  spruce  and  firs  and 
arbor-vitae  towered  on  both  sides  in  the  moonlight,  form- 
ing a  perpendicular  forest-edge  of  great  height,  like  the 


CHESUNCOOK.  105 

spires  of  a  Venice  in  the  forest.  In  two  places  stood  a 
small  stack  of  hay  on  the  bank,  ready  for  the  lumberer's 
use  in  the  winter,  looking  strange  enough  there.  "We 
thought  of  the  day  when  this  might  be  a  brook  winding 
through  smooth-shaven  meadows  on  some  gentleman's 
grounds;  and  seen  by  moonlight  then,  excepting  the 
forest  that  now  hems  it  in,  how  little  changed  it  would 
appear ! 

Again  and  again  Joe  called  the  moose,  placing  the 
canoe  close  by  some  favorable  point  of  meadow  for  them 
to  come  out  on,  but  listened  in  vain  to  hear  one  come 
rushing  through  the  woods,  and  concluded  that  they  had 
been  hunted  too  much  thereabouts.  We  saw,  many 
times,  what  to  our  imaginations  looked  like  a  gigantic 
moose,  with  his  horns  peering  from  out  the  forest-edge ; 
but  we  saw  the  forest  only,  and  not  its  inhabitants,  that 
night.  So  at  last  we  turned  about.  There  was  now  a 
little  fog  on  the  water,  though  it  was  a  fine,  clear  night 
above.  There  were  very  few  sounds  to  break  the  still- 
ness of  the  forest.  Several  times  we  heard  the  hooting 
of  a  great  horned-owl,  as  at  home,  and  told  Joe  that  he 
would  call  out  the  moose  for  him,  for  he  made  a  sound 
considerably  like  the  horn,  —  but  Joe  answered,  that  the 
moose  had  heard  that  sound  a  thousand  times,  and  knew 
better ;  and  oftener  still  we  were  startled  by  the  plunge 
of  a  musquash.  Once,  when  Joe  had  called  again,  and 
we  were  listening  for  moose,  we  heard,  come  faintly 
echoing,  or  creeping  from  far,  through  the  moss-clad 
aisles,  a  dull,  dry,  rushing  sound,  with  a  solid  core  to  it, 
yet  as  if  half  smothered  under  the  grasp  of  the  luxuri- 
ant and  fungus-like  forest,  like  the  shutting  of  a  door  in 
some  distant  entry  of  the  damp  and  shaggy  wilderness. 
If  we  had  not  been  there,  no  mortal  had  heard  it. 
5* 


106  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

When  we  asked  Joe  in  a  whisper  what  it  was,  he  an- 
swered,—  "Tree  fall."  There  is  something  singularly 
grand  and  impressive  in  the  sound  of  a  tree  falling  in  a 
perfectly  calm  night  like  this,  as  if  the  agencies  which 
overthrow  it  did  not  need  to  be  excited,  but  worked  with 
a  subtle,  deliberate,  and  conscious  force,  like  a  boa-con- 
strictor, and  more  effectively  then  than  even  in  a  windy 
day.  If  there  is  any  such  difference,  perhaps  it  is  be- 
cause trees  with  the  dews  of  the  night  on  them  are 
heavier  than  by  day. 

Having  reached  the  camp,  about  ten  o'clock,  we  kin- 
dled our  fire  and  went  to  bed.  Each  of  us  had  a 
blanket,  in  which  he  lay  on  the  fir-twigs,  with  his  ex- 
tremities toward  the  fire,  but  nothing  over  his  head.  It 
was  worth  the  while  to  lie  down  in  a  country  where  you 
could  afford  such  great  fires ;  that  was  one  whole  side, 
and  the  bright  side,  of  our  world.  We  had  first  rolled 
up  a  large  log  some  eighteen  inches  through  and  ten  feet 
long,  for  a  back-log,  to  last  all  night,  and  then  piled  on 
the  trees  to  the  height  of  three  or  four  feet,  no  matter 
how  green  or  damp.  In  fact,  we  burned  as  much  wood 
that  night  as  would,  with  economy  and  an  air-tight  stove, 
last  a  poor  family  in  one  of  our  cities  all  winter.  It  was 
very  agreeable,  as  well  as  independent,  thus  lying  in  the 
open  air,  and  the  fire  kept  our  uncovered  extremities 
warm  enough.  The  Jesuit  missionaries  used  to  say, 
that,  in  their  journeys  with  the  Indians  in  Canada,  they 
lay  on  a  bed  which  had  never  been  shaken  up  since  the 
creation,  unless  by  earthquakes.  It  is  surprising  with 
what  impunity  and  comfort  one  who  has  always  lain  in 
a  warm  bed  in  a  close  apartment,  and  studiously  avoided 
drafts  of  air,  can  lie  down,  on  the  ground  without  a  shel- 
ter, roll  himself  in  a  blanket,  and  sleep  before  a  fire,  in 


CHESUNCOOK.  107 

a  frosty,  autumn  night,  just  after  a  long  rain-storm,  and 
even  come  soon  to  enjoy  and  value  the  fresh  air. 

I  lay  awake  awhile,  watching  the  ascent  of  the  sparks 
through  the  firs,  and  sometimes  their  descent  in  half- 
extinguished  cinders  on  my  blanket.  They  were  as 
interesting  as  fireworks,  going  up  in  endless,  successive 
crowds,  each  after  an  explosion,  in  an  eager,  serpentine 
course,  some  to  five  or  six  rods  above  the  tree-tops  be- 
fore they  went  out.  We  do  not  suspect  how  much  our 
chimneys  have  concealed ;  and  now  air-tight  stoves  have 
come  to  conceal  all  the  rest.  In  the  course  of  the  night, 
I  got  up  once  or  twice  and  put  fresh  logs  on  the  fire, 
making  my  companions  curl  up  their  legs. 

When  we  awoke  in  the  morning,  (Saturday,  Septem- 
ber 17,)  there  was  considerable  frost  whitening  the 
leaves.  We  heard  the  sound  of  the  chicadee,  and  a 
few  faintly  lisping  birds,  and  also  of  ducks  in  the  water 
about  the  island.  I  took  a  botanical  account  of  stock  of 
our  domains  before  the  dew  was  off,  and  found  that  the 
ground-hemlock,  or  American  yew,  was  the  prevailing 
under-shrub.  We  breakfasted  on  tea,  hard  bread,  and 
ducks. 

Before  the  fog  had  fairly  cleared  away,  we  paddled 
down  the  stream  again,  and  were  soon  past  the  mouth  of 
the  Moosehorn.  These  twenty  miles  of  the  Penobscot, 
between  Moosehead  and  Chesuncook  Lakes,  are  com- 
paratively smooth,  and  a  great  part  dead-water;  but 
from  time  to  time  it  is  shallow  and  rapid,  with  rocks  or 
gravel-beds,  where  you  can  wade  across.  There  is  no 
expanse  of  water,  and  no  break  in  the  forest,  and  the 
meadow  is  a  mere  edging  here  and  there.  There  are 
110  hills  near  the  river  nor  within  sight,  except  one  or 
two  distant  mountains  seen  in  a  few  places.  The  banks 


108  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

are  from  six  to  ten  feet  high,  but  once  or  twice  rise 
gently  to  higher  ground.  In  many  places  the  forest  on 
the  bank  was  but  a  thin  strip,  letting  the  light  through 
from  some  alder-swamp  or  meadow  behind.  The  con- 
spicuous berry-bearing  bushes  and  trees  along  the  shore 
were  the  red  osier,  with  its  whitish  fruit,  hobble-bush, 
mountain-ash,  tree-cranberry,  choke-cherry,  now  ripe, 
alternate  cornel,  and  naked  viburnum.  Following  Joe's 
example,  I  ate  the  fruit  of  the  last,  and  also  of  the  hob- 
ble-bush, but  found  them  rather  insipid  and  seedy.  I 
looked  very  narrowly  at  the  vegetation,  as  we  glided 
along  close  to  the  shore,  and  frequently  made  Joe  turn 
aside  for  me  to  pluck  a  plant,  that  I  might  see  by  com- 
parison what  was  primitive  about  my  native  river. 
Horehound,  horsemint,  and  the  sensitive  fern  grew  close 
to  the  edge,  under  the  willows  and  alders,  and  wool- 
grass  on  the  islands,  as  along  the  Assabet  River  in  Con- 
cord. It  was  too  late  for  flowers,  except  a  few  asters, 
golden-rods,  etc.  In  several  places  we  noticed  the  slight 
frame  of  a  camp,  such  as  we  had  prepared  to  set  up, 
amid  the  forest  by  the  river-side,  where  some  lumberers 
or  hunters  had  passed  a  night,  —  and  sometimes  steps 
cut  in  the  muddy  or  clayey  bank  in  front  of  it. 

We  stopped  to  fish  for  trout  at  the  mouth  of  a  small 
stream  called  Ragmuff,  which  came  in  from  the  west, 
about  two  miles  below  the  Moosehorn.  Here  were  the 
ruins  of  an  old  lumbering-camp,  and  a  small  space, 
which  had  formerly  been  cleared  and  burned  over,  was 
now  densely  overgrown  with  the  red  cherry  and  rasp- 
berries. While  we  were  trying  for  trout,  Joe,  Indian- 
like,  wandered  off  up  the  Ragmuff  on  his  own  errands, 
and  when  we  were  ready  to  start  was  far  beyond  call. 
So  we  were  compelled  to  make  a  fire  and  get  our  din- 


CHESUNCOOK.  109 

ner  here,  not  to  lose  time.  Some  dark  reddish  birds, 
with  grayer  females,  (perhaps  purple  finches,)  and  myr- 
tle-birds in  their  summer  dress,  hopped  within  six  or 
eight  feet  of  us  and  our  smoke.  Perhaps  they  smelled 
the  frying  pork.  The  latter  bird,  or  both,  made  the 
lisping  notes  which  I  had  heard  in  the  forest.  They 
suggested  that  the  few  small  birds  found  in  the  wilder- 
ness are  on  more  familiar  terms  with  the  lumberman 
and  hunter  than  those  of  the  orchard  and  clearing  with 
the  farmer.  I  have  since  found  the  Canada  jay,  and 
partridges,  both  the  black  and  the  common,  equally 
tame  there,  as  if  they  had  not  yet  learned  to  mistrust 
man  entirely.  The  chicadee,  which  is  at  home  alike  in 
the  primitive  woods  and  in  our  wood-lots,  still  retains  its 
confidence  in  the  towns  to  a  remarkable  degree. 

Joe  at  length  returned,  after  an  hour  and  a  half,  and 
said  that  he  had  been  two  miles  up  the  stream  exploring, 
and  had  seen  a  moose,  but,  not  having  the  gun,  he  did 
not  get  him.  We  made  no  complaint,  but  concluded  to 
look  out  for  Joe  the  next  time.  However,  this  may 
have  been  a  mere  mistake,  for  we  had  no  reason  to  com- 
plain of  him  afterwards.  As  we  continued  down  the 
stream,  I  was  surprised  to  hear  him  whistling  "  O  Su- 
sanna," and  several  other  such  airs,  while  his  paddle 
urged  us  along.  Once  he  said,  "Yes,  Sir-ee."  His 
common  word  was  "  Sartain."  He  paddled,  as  usual,  on 
one  side  only,  giving  the  birch  an  impulse  by  using  the 
side  as  a  fulcrum.  I  asked  him  how  the  ribs  were  fas- 
tened to  the  side  rails.  He  answered,  "  I  don't  know,  I 
never  noticed."  Talking  with  him  about  subsisting 
wholly  on  what  the  woods  yielded,  game,  fish,  berries, 
etc.,  I  suggested  that  his  ancestors  did  so;  but  he  an- 
swered, that  he  had  been  brought  up  in  such  a  way  that 


110  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

he  could  not  do  it.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  that 's  the  way 
they  got  a  living,  like  wild  fellows,  wild  as  bears.  By 
George !  I  shan't  go  into  the  woods  without  provision, 
—  hard  bread,  pork,  etc."  He  had  brought  on  a  barrel 
of  hard  bread  and  stored  it  at  the  carry  for  his  hunting. 
However,  though  he  was  a  Governor's  son,  he  had  not 
learned  to  read. 

At  one  place  below  this,  on  the  east  side,  where  the 
bank  was  higher  and  drier  than  usual,  rising  gently  from 
the  shore  to  a  slight  elevation,  some  one  had  felled  the 
trees  over  twenty  or  thirty  acres,  and  left  them  drying 
in  order  to  burn.  This  was  the  only  preparation  for  a 
house  between  the  Moosehead  carry  and  Chesuncook, 
but  there  was  no  hut  nor  inhabitants  there  yet.  The 
pioneer  thus  selects  a  site  for  his  house,  which  will,  per- 
haps, prove  the  germ  of  a  town. 

My  eyes  were  all  the  while  on  the  trees,  distinguish- 
ing between  the  black  and  white  spruce  and  the  fir. 
You  paddle  along  in  a  narrow  canal  through  an  endless 
forest,  and  the  vision  I  have  in  my  mind's  eye,  still,  is 
of  the  small,  dark,  and  sharp  tops  of  tall  fir  and  spruce 
trees,  and  pagoda-like  arbor-vitass,  crowded  together  on 
each  side,  with  various  hard  woods,  intermixed.  Some 
of  the  arbor-vitaes  were  at  least  sixty  feet  high.  The 
hard  woods,  occasionally  occurring  exclusively,  were  less 
wild  to  my  eye.  I  fancied  them  ornamental  grounds, 
with  farm-houses  in  the  rear.  The  canoe  and  yellow 
birch,  beech,  maple,  and  elm  are  Saxon  and  Norman ; 
but  the  spruce  and  fir,  and  pines  generally,  are  Indian. 
The  soft  engravings  which  adorn  the  annuals  give  Jio 
idea  of  a  stream  in  such  a  wilderness  as  this.  The 
rough  sketches  in  Jackson's  Reports  on  the  Geology  of 
Maine  answer  much  better.  At  one  place  we  saw  a 


CHESUNCOOK.  Ill 

small  grove  of  slender  sapling  white-pines,  the  only  col- 
lection of  pines  that  I  saw  on  this  voyage.  Here  and 
there,  however,  was  a  full-grown,  tall,  and  slender,  but 
defective  one,  what  lumbermen  call  a  konchus  tree, 
which  they  ascertain  with  their  axes,  or  by  the  knots. 
I  did  not  learn  whether  this  word  was  Indian  or  Eng- 
lish. It  reminded  me  of  the  Greek  Koyxn,  a  conch  or 
shell,  and  I  amused  myself  with  fancying  that  it  might 
signify  the  dead  sound  which  the  trees  yield  when 
struck.  All  the  rest  of  the  pines  had  been  driven  off. 

How  far  men  go  for  the  material  of  their  houses ! 
The  inhabitants  of  the  most  civilized  cities,  in  all  ages, 
send  into  far,  primitive  forests,  beyond  the  bounds  of 
their  civilization,  where  the  moose  and  bear  and  savage 
dwell,  for  their  pine-boards  for  ordinary  use.  And;  on 
the  other  hand,  the  savage  soon  receives  from  cities,  iron 
arrow-points,  hatchets,  and  guns,  to  point  his  savageness 
with. 

The  solid  and  well-defined  fir-tops,  like  sharp  and 
regular  spear-heads,  black  against  the  sky,  gave  a  pecu- 
liar, dark,  and  sombre  look  to  the  forest.  The  spruce- 
tops  have  a  similar,  but  more  ragged  outline,  —  their 
shafts  also  merely  feathered  below.  The  firs  were 
somewhat  oftener  regular  and  dense  pyramids.  I  was 
struck  by  this  universal  spiring  upward  of  the  forest 
evergreens.  The  tendency  is  to  slender,  spiring  tops, 
while  they  are  narrower  below.  Not  only  the  spruce 
and  fir,  but  even  the  arbor-vitas  and  white-pine,  unlike 
the  soft,  spreading  second-growth,  of  which  I  saw  none, 
all  spire  upwards,  lifting  a  dense  spear-head  of  cones  to 
the  light  and  air,  at  any  rate,  while  their  branches  strag- 
gle after  as  they  may ;  as  Indians  lift  the  ball  over  the 
heads  of  the  crowd  in  their  desperate  game.  In  this 


112  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

they  resemble  grasses,  as  also  palms  somewhat.  The 
hemlock  is  commonly  a  tent-like  pyramid  from  the 
ground  to  its  summit. 

After  passing  through  some  long  rips,  and  by  a  large 
island,  we  reached  an  interesting  part  of  the  river  called 
the  Pine-Stream  Dead- Water,  about  six  miles  below 
Ragmuff,  where  the  river  expanded  to  thirty  rods  in 
width  and  had  many  islands  in  it,  with  elms  and  canoe- 
birches,  now  yellowing,  along  the  shore,  and  we  got  our 
first  sight  of  Ktaadn. 

Here,  about  two  o'clock,  we  turned  up  a  small  branch 
three  or  four  rods  wide,  which  comes  in  on  the  right 
from  the  south,  called  Pine-Stream,  to  look  for  moose 
signs.  We  had  gone  but  a  few  rods  before  we  saw  very 
recent  signs  along  the  water's  edge,  the  mud  lifted  up  by 
their  feet  being  quite  fresh,  and  Joe  declared  that  they 
had  gone  along  there  but  a  short  time  before.  We  soon 
reached  a  small  meadow  on  the  east  side,  at  an  angle  in 
the  stream,  which  was,  for  the  most  part,  densely  cov- 
ered with  alders.  As  we  were  advancing  along  the  edge 
of  this,  rather  more  quietly  than  usual,  perhaps,  on 
account  of  the  freshness  of  the  signs,  —  the  design  be- 
ing to  camp  up  this  stream,  if  it  promised  well,  —  I 
heard  a  slight  crackling  of  twigs  deep  in  the  alders,  and 
turned  Joe's  attention  to  it ;  whereupon  he  began  to  push 
the  canoe  back  rapidly ;  and  we  had  receded  thus  half  a 
dozen  rods,  when  we  suddenly  spied  two  moose  standing 
just  on  the  edge  of  the  open  part  of  the  meadow  which 
we  had  passed,  not  more  than  six  or  seven  rods  distant, 
looking  round  the  alders  at  us.  They  made  me  think 
of  great  frightened  rabbits,  with  their  long  ears  and  half- 
inquisitive,  half-frightened  looks;  the  true  denizens  of 
the  forest,  (I  saw  at  once,)  filling  a  vacuum  which  now 


CHESUNCOOK.  113 

first  I  discovered  had  not  been  filled  for  me,  —  moose- 
men,  wood-eaters,  the  word  is  said  to  mean,  —  clad  in  a 
sort  of  Vermont  gray,  or  homespun.  Our  Nimrod,  ow- 
ing to  the  retrograde  movement,  was  now  the  farthest 
from  the  game ;  but  being  warned  of  its  neighborhood, 
he  hastily  stood  up,  and,  while  we  ducked,  fired  over  our 
heads  one  barrel  at  the  foremost,  which  alone  he  saw, 
though  he  did  not  know  what  kind  of  creature  it  was ; 
whereupon  this  one  dashed  across  the  meadow  and  up  a 
high  bank  on  the  northeast,  so  rapidly  as  to  leave  but  an 
indistinct  impression  of  its  outlines  on  my  mind.  At  the 
same  instant,  the  other,  a  young  one,  but  as  tall  as  a 
horse,  leaped  out  into  the  stream,  in  full  sight,  and  there 
stood  cowering  for  a  moment,  or  rather  its  disproportion- 
ate lowness  behind  gave  it  that  appearance,  and  uttering 
two  or  three  trumpeting  squeaks.  I  have  an  indistinct 
recollection  of  seeing  the  old  one  pause  an  instant  on  the 
top  of  the  bank  in  the  woods,  look  toward  its  shivering 
young,  and  then  dash  away  again.  The  second  barrel 
was  levelled  at  the  calf,  and  when  we  expected  to  see  it 
drop  in  the  water,  after  a  little  hesitation,  it,  too,  got  out 
of  the  water,  and  dashed  up  the  hill,  though  in  a  some- 
what different  direction.  All  this  was  the  work  of  a  few 
seconds,  and  our  hunter,  having  never  seen  a  moose  be- 
fore, did  not  know  but  they  were  deer,  for  they  stood 
partly  in  the  water,  nor  whether  he  had  fired  at  the  same 
one  twice  or  not.  From  the  style  in  which  they  went 
off,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  not  used  to  standing  up  and 
firing  from  a  canoe,  I  judged  that  we  should  not  see 
anything  more  of  them.  The  Indian  said  that  they 
were  a  cow  and  her  calf,  —  a  yearling,  or  perhaps  two 
years  old,  for  they  accompany  their  dams  so  long ;  but, 
for  my  part,  I  had  not  noticed  much  difference  in  their 


114  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

size.  It  was  but  two  or  three  rods  across  the  meadow 
to  the  foot  of  the  bank,  which,  like  all  the  world  there- 
abouts, was  densely  wooded ;  but  I  was  surprised  to 
notice,  that,  as  soon  as  the  moose  had  passed  behind  the 
veil  of  the  woods,  there  was  no  sound  of  footsteps  to  be 
heard  from  the  soft,  damp  moss  which  carpets  that  for- 
est, and  long  before  we  landed,  perfect  silence  reigned. 
Joe  said,  "  If  you  wound  'em  moose,  me  sure  get  'em." 

We  all  landed  at  once.  My  companion  reloaded  ;  the 
Indian  fastened  his  birch,  threw  off  his  hat,  adjusted  his 
waistband,  seized  the  hatchet,  and  set  out.  He  told  me 
afterward,  casually,  that  before  we  landed  he  had  seen  a 
drop  of  blood  on  the  bank,  when  it  was  two  or  three 
rods  off.  He  proceeded  rapidly  up  the  bank  and  through 
the  woods,  with  a  peculiar,  elastic,  noiseless,  and  stealthy 
tread,  looking  to  right  and  left  on  the  ground,  and  step- 
ping in  the  faint  tracks  of  the  wounded  moose,  now 
and  then  pointing  in  silence  to  a  single  drop  of  blood  on 
the  handsome,  shining  leaves  of  the  Clintonia  Borealis, 
which,  on  every  side,  covered  the  ground,  or  to  a  dry 
fern-stem  freshly  broken,  all  the  while  chewing  some 
leaf  or  else  the  spruce  gum.  I  followed,  watching  his 
motions  more  than  the  trail  of  the  moose.  After  follow- 
ing the  trail  about  forty  rods  in  a  pretty  direct  course, 
stepping  over  fallen  trees  and  winding  between  standing 
ones,  he  at  length  lost  it,  for  there  were  many  other 
moose-tracks  there,  and,  returning  once  more  to  the  last 
blood-stain,  traced  it  a  little  way  and  lost  it  again,  and, 
too  soon,  I  thought,  for  a  good  hunter,  gave  it  up  en- 
tirely. He  traced  a  few  steps,  also,  the  tracks  of  the 
calf;  but,  seeing  no  blood,  soon  relinquished  the  search. 

I  observed,  while  he  was  tracking  the  moose,  a  cer- 
tain reticence  or  moderation  in  him.  He^did  not  com- 


CHESUNCOOK.  115 

municate  several  observations  of  interest  which  he 
made,  as  a  white  man  would  have  done,  though  they 
may  have  leaked  out  afterward.  At  another  time,  when 
we  heard  a  slight  crackling  of  twigs  and  he  landed  to 
reconnoitre,  he  stepped  lightly  and  gracefully,  stealing 
through  the  bushes  with  the  least  possible  noise,  in  a 
way  in  which  no  white  man  does,  —  as  it  were,  finding 
a  place  for  his  foot  each  time. 

About  half  an  hour  after  seeing  the  moose,  we  pur- 
sued our  voyage  up  Pine-Stream,  and  soon,  coming  to  a 
part  which  was  very  shoal  and  also  rapid,  we  took  out 
the  baggage,  and  proceeded  to  carry  it  round,  while  Joe 
got  up  with  the  canoe  alone.  We  were  just  completing 
our  portage  and  I  was  absorbed  in  the  plants,  admiring 
the  leaves  of  the  aster  macrophyllus,  ten  inches  wide, 
and  plucking  the  seeds  of  the  great  round-leaved  orchis, 
when  Joe  exclaimed  from  the  stream  that  he  had  killed 
a  moose.  He  had  found  the  cow-moose  lying  dead,  but 
quite  warm,  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  which  was  so 
shallow  that  it  rested  on  the  bottom,  with  hardly  a  third 
of  its  body  above  water.  It  was  about  an  hour  after  it 
was  shot,  and  it  was  swollen  with  water.  It  had  run 
about  a  hundred  rods  and  sought  the  stream  again,  cut- 
ting off  a  slight  bend.  No  doubt,  a  better  hunter  would 
have  tracked  it  to  this  spot  at  once.  I  was  surprised  at 
its  great  size,  horse-like,  but  Joe  said  it  was  not  a  large 
cow-moose.  My  companion  went  in  search  of  the  calf 
again.  I  took  hold  of  the  ears  of  the  moose,  while  Joe 
pushed  his  canoe  down  stream  toward  a  favorable  shore, 
and  so  we  made  out,  though  with  some  difficulty,  its  long 
nose  frequently  sticking  in  the  bottom,  to  drag  it  into 
still  shallower  water.  It  was  a  brownish  black,  or  per- 
haps a  dark  iron-gray,  on  the  back  and  sides,  but  lighter 


116  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

beneath  and  in  front.  I  took  the  cord  which  served  for 
the  canoe's  painter,  and  with  Joe's  assistance  measured 
it  carefully,  the  greatest  distances  first,  making  a  knot 
each  time.  The  painter  being  wanted,  I  reduced  these 
measures  that  night  with  equal  care  to  lengths  and  frac- 
tions of  my  umbrella,  beginning  with  the  smallest  meas- 
ures, and  untying  the  knots  as  I  proceeded ;  and  when 
we  arrived  at  Chesuncook  the  next  day,  finding  a  two- 
foot  rule  there,  I  reduced  the  last  to  feet  and  inches; 
and,  moreover,  I  made  myself  a  two-foot  rule  of  a  thin 
and  narrow  strip  of  black  ash  which  would  fold  up 
conveniently  to  six  inches.  All  this  pains  I  took  be- 
cause I  did  not  wish  to  be  obliged  to  say  merely  that 
the  moose  was  very  large.  Of  the  various  dimensions 
which  I  obtained  I  will  mention  only  two.  The  dis- 
tance from  the  tips  of  the  hoofs  of  the  fore-feet,  stretched 
out,  to  the  top  of  the  back  between  the  shoulders,  was 
seven  feet  and  five  inches.  I  can  hardly  believe  my 
own  measure,  for  this  is  about  two  feet  greater  than  the 
height  of  a  tall  horse.  [Indeed,  I  am  now  satisfied  that 
this  measurement  was  incorrect,  but  the  other  measures 
given  here  I  can  warrant  to  be  correct,  having  proved 
them  in  a  more  recent  visit  to  those  woods.]  The  ex- 
treme length  was  eight  feet  and  two  inches.  Another 
cow-moose,  which  I  have  since  measured  in  those  woods 
with  a  tape,  was  just  six  feet  from  the  tip  of 'the  hoof 
to  the  shoulders,  and  eight  feet  long  as  she  lay. 

When  afterward  I  asked  an  Indian  at  the  carry  how 
much  taller  the  male  was,  he  answered,  "  Eighteen 
inches,"  and  made  me  observe  the  height  of  a  cross-stake 
over  the  fire,  more  than  four  feet  from  the  ground,  to 
give  me  some  idea  of  the  depth  of  his  chest.  Another 
Indian,  at  Oldtown,  told  me  that  they  were  nine  feet 


CHESUNCOOK.  117 

high  to  the  top  of  the  back,  and  that  one  which  he 
tried  weighed  eight  hundred  pounds.  The  length  of 
the  spinal  projections  between  the  shoulders  is  very 
great.  A  white  hunter,  who  was  the  best  authority 
among  hunters  that  I  could  have,  told  me  that  the 
male  was  not  eighteen  inches  taller  than  the  female ; 
yet  he  agreed  that  he  was  sometimes  nine  feet  high  to 
the  top  of  the  back,  and  weighed  a  thousand  pounds. 
Only  the  male  has  horns,  and  they  rise  two  feet  or 
more  above  the  shoulders,  —  spreading  three  or  four, 
and  sometimes  six  feet,  —  which  would  make  him  in 
all,  sometimes,  eleven  feet  high !  According  to  this  cal- 
culation, the  moose  is  as  tall,  though  it  may  not  be  as 
large,  as  the  great  Irish  elk,  Megaceros  Hibernicus,  of 
a  former  period,  of  which  Mantell  says  that  it  "  very 
far  exceeded  in  magnitude  any  living  species,  the  skele- 
ton "  being  "  upward  of  ten  feet  high  from  the  ground 
to  the  highest  point  of  the  antlers."  Joe  said,  that, 
though  the  moose  shed  the  whole  horn  annually,  each 
new  horn  has  an  additional  prong ;  but  I  have  noticed 
that  they  sometimes  have  more  prongs  on  one  side 
than  on  the  other.  I  was  struck  with  the  delicacy  and 
tenderness  of  the  hoofs,  which  divide  very  far  up,  and 
the  one  half  could  be  pressed  very  much  behind  the 
other,  thus  probably  making  the  animal  surer-footed  on 
the  uneven  ground  and  slippery  moss-covered  logs  of 
the  primitive  forest.  They  were  very  unlike  the  stiff 
and  battered  feet  of  our  horses  and  oxen.  The  bare, 
horny  part  of  the  fore-foot  was  just  six  inches  long, 
and  the  two  portions  could  be  separated  four  inches  at 
the  extremities. 

The  moose  is  singularly  grotesque  and  awkward  to 
look  at.     Why  should  it  stand  so  high  at  the  shoulders  ? 


118  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Why  have  so  long  a  head  ?  Why  have  no  tail  to  speak 
of?  for  in  my  examination  I  overlooked  it  entirely. 
Naturalists  say  it  is  an  inch  and  a  half  long.  It  re- 
minded me  at  once  of  the  camelopard,  high  before  and 
low  behind,  —  and  no  wonder,  for,  like  it,  it  is  fitted  to 
browse  on  trees.  The  upper  lip  projected  two  inches 
beyond  the  lower  for  this  purpose.  This  was  the  kind 
of  man  that  was  at  home  there ;  for,  as  near  as  I  can 
learn,  that  has  never  been  the  residence,  but  rather 
the  hunting-ground  of  the  Indian.  The  moose  will 
perhaps,  one  day  become  extinct ;  but  how  naturally 
then,  when  it  exists  only  as  a  fossil  relic,  and  unseen 
as  that,  may  the  poet  or  sculptor  invent  a  fabulous 
animal  with  similar  branching  and  leafy  horns,  —  a  sort 
of  fucus  or  lichen  in  bone,  —  to  be  the  inhabitant  of 
such  a  forest  as  this ! 

Here,  just  at  the  head  of  the  murmuring  rapids,  Joe 
now  proceeded  to  skin  the  moose  with  a  pocket-knife, 
"while  I  looked  on;  and  a  tragical  business  it  was,  —  to 
see  that  still  warm  and  palpitating  body  pierced  with 
a  knife,  to  see  the  warm  milk  stream  from  the  rent 
udder,  and  the  ghastly  naked  red  carcass  appearing 
from  within  its  seemly  robe,  which  was  made  to  hide 
it.  The  ball  had  passed  through  the  shoulder-blade 
diagonally  and  lodged  under  the  skin  on  the  opposite 
side,  and  was  partially  flattened.  My  companion  keeps 
it  to  show  to  his  grandchildren.  He  has  the  shanks  of 
another  moose  which  he  has  since  shot,  skinned  and 
stuffed,  ready  to  be  made  into  boots  by  putting  in  a  thick 
leather  sole.  Joe  said,  if  a  moose  stood  fronting  you, 
you  must  not  fire,  but  advance  toward  him,  for  he  will 
turn  slowly  and  give  you  a  fair  shot.  In  the  bed  of 
this  narrow,  wild,  and  rocky  stream,  between  two  lofty 


CHESUNCOOK.  119 

walls  of  spruce  and  firs,  a  mere  cleft  in  the  forest  which 
the  stream  had  made,  this  work  went  on.  At  length 
Joe  had  stripped  off  the  hide  and  dragged  it  trailing  to 
the  shore,  declaring  that  it  weighed  a  hundred  pounds, 
though  probably  fifty  would  have  been  nearer  the  truth. 
He  cut  off  a  large  mass  of  the  meat  to  carry  along,  and 
another,  together  with  the  tongue  and  nose,  he  put  with 
the  hide  on  the  shore  to  lie  there  all  night,  or  till  we 
returned.  I  was  surprised  that  he  thought  of  leaving 
this  meat  thus  exposed  by  the  side  of  the  carcass,  as 
the  simplest  course,  not  fearing  that  any  creature  would 
touch  it;  but  nothing  did.  This  could  hardly  have 
happened  on  the  bank  of  one  of  our  rivers  in  the  east- 
ern part  of  Massachusetts;  but  I  suspect  that  fewer 
small  wild  animals  are  prowling  there  than  with  us. 
Twice,  however,  in  this  excursion  I  had  a  glimpse  of  a 
species  of  large  mouse. 

This  stream  was  so  withdrawn,  and  the  moose-tracks 
were  so  fresh,  that  my  companions,  still  bent  on  hunt- 
ing, concluded  to  go  farther  up  it  and  camp,  and  then 
hunt  up  or  down  at  night.  Half  a  mile  above  this,  at 
a  place  where  I  saw  the  aster  puniceus  and  the  beaked 
hazel,  as  we  paddled  along,  Joe,  hearing  a  slight  rustling 
amid  the  alders,  and  seeing  something  black  about  two 
rods  off,  jumped  up  and  whispered,  "  Bear ! "  but  before 
the  hunter  had  discharged  his  piece,  he  corrected  him- 
self to  "  Beaver ! "  —  «  Hedgehog ! "  The  bullet  killed 
a  large  hedgehog  more  than  two  feet  and  eight  inches 
long.  The  quills  were  rayed  out  and  flattened  on  the 
hinder  part  of  its  back,  even  as  if  it  had  lain  on  that 
part,  but  were  erect  and  long  between  this  and  the  tail. 
Their  points,  closely  examined,  were  seen  to  be  finely 
bearded  or  barbed,  and  shaped  like  an  awl,  that  is,  a 


120  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

little  concave,  to  give  the  barbs  effect.  After  about  a 
mile  of  still  water,  we  prepared  our  camp  on  the  right 
side,  just  at  the  foot  of  a  considerable  fall.  Little  chop- 
ping was  done  that  night,  for  fear  of  scaring  the  moose. 
We  had  moose-meat  fried  for  supper.  It  tasted  like 
tender  beef,  with  perhaps  more  flavor,  —  sometimes  like 
veal. 

After  supper,  the  moon  having  risen,  we  proceeded  to 
hunt  a  mile  up  this  stream,  first  "  carrying "  about  the 
falls.  We  made  a  picturesque  sight,  wending  single-file 
along  the  shore,  climbing  over  rocks  and  logs,  —  Joe, 
who  brought  up  the  rear,  twirling  his  canoe  in  his  hands 
as  if  it  were  a  feather,  in  places  where  it  was  difficult 
to  get  along  without  a  burden.  We  launched  the  canoe 
again  from  the  ledge  over  which  the  stream  fell,  but 
after  half  a  mile  of  still  water,  suitable  for  hunting,  it 
became  rapid  again,  and  we  were  compelled  to  make 
our  way  along  the  shore,  while  Joe  endeavored  to  get 
up  in  the  birch  alone,  though  it  was  still  very  difficult 
for  him  to  pick  his  way  amid  the  rocks  in  the  night. 
We  on  the  shore  found  the  worst  of  walking,  a  perfect 
chaos  of  fallen  and  drifted  trees,  and  of  bushes  project- 
ing far  over  the  water,  and  now  and  then  we  made  our 
way  across  the  mouth  of  a  small  tributary  on  a  kind 
of  net-work  of  alders.  So  we  went  tumbling  on  in 
the  dark,  being  on  the  shady  side,  effectually  scaring 
all  the  moose  and  bears  that  might  be  thereabouts. 
At  length  we  came  to  a  standstill,  and  Joe  went  forward 
to  reconnoitre ;  but  he  reported  that  it  was  still  a  con- 
tinuous rapid  as  far  as  he  went,  or  half  a  mile,  with 
no  prospect  of  improvement,  as  if  it  were  coming  down 
from  a  mountain.  So  we  turned  about,  hunting  back 
to  the  camp  through  the  still  water.  It  was  a  splendid 


CHESUNCOOK.  121 

moonlight  night,  and  I,  getting  sleepy  as  it  grew  late, — 
for  I  had  nothing  to  do,  —  found  it  difficult  to  realize 
where  I  was.  This  stream  was  much  more  unfre- 
quented than  the  main  one,  lumbering  operations  being 
no  longer  carried  on  in  this  quarter.  It  was  only  three 
or  four  rods  wide,  but  the  firs  and  spruce  through  which 
it  trickled  seemed  yet  taller  by  contrast.  Being  in  this 
dreamy  state,  which  the  moonlight  enhanced,  I  did  not 
clearly  discern  the  shore,  but  seemed,  most  of  the  time, 
to  be  floating  through  ornamental  grounds,  —  for  I  as- 
sociated the  fir-tops  with  such  scenes ;  —  very  high  up 
some  Broadway,  and  beneath  or  between  their  tops, 
I  thought  I  saw  an  endless  succession  of  porticos  and 
columns,  cornices  and  fayades,  verandas  and  churches. 
I  did  not  merely  fancy  this,  but  in  my  drowsy  state 
such  was  the  illusion.  I  fairly  lost  myself  in  sleep 
several  times,  still  dreaming  of  that  architecture  and 
the  nobility  that  dwelt  behind  and  might  issue  from  it ; 
but  all  at  once  I  would  be  aroused  and  brought  back 
to  a  sense  of  my  actual  position  by  the  sound  of  Joe's 
birch  horn  in  the  midst  of  all  this  silence  calling  the 
moose,  ugh,  ugh,  oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo,  and  I  prepared  to 
hear  a  furious  moose  come  rushing  and  crashing  through 
the  forest,  and  see  him  burst  out  on  to  the  little  strip  of 
meadow  by  our  side. 

But,  on  more  accounts  than  one,  I  had  had  enough 
of  moose-hunting.  I  had  not  come  to  the  woods  for 
this  purpose,  nor  had  I  foreseen  it,  though  I  had  been 
willing  to  learn  how  the  Indian  manceuvred;  but  one 
moose  killed  was  as  good,  if  not  as  bad,  as  a  dozen. 
The  afternoon's  tragedy,  and  my  share  in  it,  as  it  af- 
fected the  innocence,  destroyed  the  pleasure  of  my  ad- 
venture. It  is  true,  I  came  as  near  as  is  possible  to 


or  THE 


122  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

come  to  being  a  hunter  and  miss  it,  myself;  and  as  it 
is,  I  think  that  I  could  spend  a  year  in  the  woods,  fish- 
ing and  hunting,  just  enough  to  sustain  myself,  with 
satisfaction.  This  would  be  next  to  living  like  a  phi- 
losopher on  the  fruits  of  the  earth  which  you  had  raised, 
which  also  attracts  me.  But  this  hunting  of  the  moose 
merely  for  the  satisfaction  of  killing  him,  —  not  even 
for  the  sake  of  his  hide,  —  without  making  any  extraor- 
dinary exertion  or  running  any  risk  yourself,  is  too 
much  like  going  out  by  night  to  some  wood-side  pasture 
and  shooting  your  neighbor's  horses.  These  are  God's 
own  horses,  poor,  timid  creatures,  that  will  run  fast 
enough  as  soon  as  they  smell  you,  though  they  are  nine 
feet  high.  Joe  told  us  of  some  hunters  who  a  year  or 
two  before  had  shot  down  several  oxen  by  night,  some- 
where in  the  Maine  woods,  mistaking  them  for  moose. 
And  so  might  any  of  the  hunters ;  and  what  is  the  dif- 
ference in  the  sport,  but  the  name  ?  In  the  former  case, 
having  killed  one  of  God's  and  your  own  oxen,  you  strip 
off  its  hide,  —  because  that  is  the  common  trophy,  and, 
moreover,  you  have  heard  that  it  may  be  sold  for  moc- 
casins, —  cut  a  steak  from  its  haunches,  and  leave  the 
huge  carcass  to  smell  to  heaven  for  you.  It  is  no  better, 
at  least,  than  to  assist  at  a  slaughter-house. 

This  afternoon's  experience  suggested  to  me  how  base 
or  coarse  are  the  motives  which  commonly  carry  men 
into  the  wilderness.  The  explorers  and  lumberers  gen- 
erally are  all  hirelings,  paid  so  much  a  day  for  their 
labor,  and  as  such  they  have  no  more  love  for  wild 
nature  than  wood-sawyers  have  for  forests.  Other  white 
men  and  Indians  who  come  Jjere  are  for  the  most  part 
hunters,  whose  object  is  to  slay  as  many  moose  and 
other  wild  animals  as  possible.  But,  pray,  could  not 


CHESUNCOOK.  123 

one  spend  some  weeks  or  years  in  the  solitude  of  this 
vast  wilderness  with  other  employments  than  these,  — 
employments  perfectly  sweet  and  innocent  and  enno- 
bling ?  For  one  that  comes  with  a  pencil  to  sketch  or 
sing,  a  thousand  come  with  an  axe  or  rifle.  What  a 
coarse  and  imperfect  use  Indians  and  hunters  make  of 
Nature !  No  wonder  that  their  race  is  so  soon  exter- 
minated. I  already,  and  for  weeks  afterward,  felt  my 
nature  the  coarser  for  this  part  of  my  woodland  ex- 
perience, and  was  reminded  that  our  life  should  be 
lived  as  tenderly  and  daintily  as  one  would  pluck  a 
flower. 

With  these  thoughts,  when  we  reached  our  camping- 
ground,  I  decided  to  leave  my  companions  to  continue 
moose-hunting  down  the  stream,  while  I  prepared  $he 
camp,  though  they  requested  me  not  to  chop  much  nor 
make  a  large  fire,  for  fear  I  should  scare  their  game. 
In  the  midst  of  the  damp  fir-wood,  high  on  the  mossy 
bank,  about  nine  o'clock  of  this  bright  moonlight  night, 
I  kindled  a  fire,  when  they  were  gone,  and,  sitting  on 
the  fir-twigs,  within  sound  of  the  falls,  examined  by  its 
light  the  botanical  specimens  which  I  had  collected  that 
afternoon,  and  wrote  down  some  of  the  reflections  which 
I  have  here  expanded ;  or  I  walked  along  the  shore  and 
gazed  up  the  stream,  where  the  whole  space  above  the 
falls  was  filled  with  mellow  light.  As  I  sat  before  the 
fire  on  my  fir-twig  seat,  without  walls  above  or  around 
me,  I  remembered  how  far  on  every  hand  that  wilder- 
ness stretched,  before  you  came  to  cleared  or  cultivated 
fields,  and  wondered  if  any  bear  or  moose  was  watching 
the  light  of  my  fire ;  for  Nature  looked  sternly  upon  me 
on  account  of  the  murder  of  the  moose. 

Strange  that  so  few  ever  come  to  the  woods  to  see 


124  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

how  the  pine  lives  and  grows  and  spires,  lifting  its  ever- 
green arms  to  the  light,  —  to  see  its  perfect  success ;  but 
most  are  content  to  behold  it  in  the  shape  of  many 
broad  boards  brought  to  market,  and  deem  that  its  true 
success  !  But  the  pine  is  no  more  lumber  than  man  is, 
and  to  be  made  into  boards  and  houses  is  no  more  its 
true  and  highest  use  than  the  truest  use  of  a  man  is  to 
be  cut  down  and  made  into  manure.  There  is  a  higher 
law  affecting  our  relation  to  pines  as  well  as  to  men.  A 
pine  cut  down,  a  dead  pine,  is  no  more  a  pine  than  a 
dead  human  carcass  is  a  man.  Can  he  who  has  discov- 
ered only  some  of  the  values  of  whalebone  and  whale 
oil  be  said  to  have  discovered  the  true  use  of  the  whale  ? 
Can  he  who  slays  the  elephant  for  his  ivory  be  said  to 
have  "seen  the  elephant"?  These  are  petty  and  acci- 
dental uses ;  just  as  if  a  stronger  race  were  to  kill  us  in 
order  to  make  buttons  and  flageolets  of  our  bones ;  for 
everything  may  serve  a  lower  as  well  as  a  higher  use. 
Every  creature  is  better  alive  than  dead,  men  and  moose 
and  pine-trees,  and  he  who  understands  it  aright  will 
rather  preserve  its  life  than  destroy  it. 

Is  it  the  lumberman,  then,  who  is  the  friend  and  lover 
of  the  pine,  stands  nearest  to  it,  and  understands  its 
nature  best  ?  Is  it  the  tanner  who  has  barked  it,  or  he 
who  has  boxed  it  for  turpentine,  whom  posterity  will 
fable  to  have  been  changed  into  a  pine  at  last  ?  No ! 
no !  it  is  the  poet;  he  it  is  who  makes  the  truest  use  of  , 
the  pine,  —  who  does  not  fondle  it  with  an  axe,  nor 
tickle  it  with  a  saw,  nor  stroke  it  with  a  plane,  —  who 
knows  whether  its  heart  is  false  without  cutting  into  it, 
—  who  has  not  bought  the  stumpage  of  the  township  on 
which  it  stands.  All  the  pines  shudder  and  heave  a  sigh 
when  that  man  steps  on  the  forest  floor.  No,  it  is  the 


CHESUNCOOK.  125 

poet,  who  loves  them  as  his  own  shadow  in  the  air,  and 
lets  them  stand.  I  have  been  into  the  lumber-yard,  and 
the  carpenter's  shop,  and  the  tannery,  and  the  lampblack- 
factory,  and  the  turpentine  clearing ;  but  when  at  length 
I  saw  the  tops  of  the  pines  waving  and  reflecting  the 
light  at  a  distance  high  over  all  the  rest  of  the  forest,  I 
realized  that  the  former  were  not  the  highest  use  of  the 
pine.  It  is  not  their  bones  or  hide  or  tallow  that  I  love 
most.  It  is  the  living  spirit  of  the  tree,  not  its  spirit  of 
turpentine,  with  which  I  sympathize,  and  which  heals 
my  cuts.  It  is  as  immortal  as  I  am,  and  perchance  will 
go  to  as  high  a  heaven,  there  to  tower  above  me  still. 

Erelong,  the  hunters  returned,  not  having  seen  a 
moose,  but,  in  consequence  of  my  suggestions,  bringing 
a  quarter  of  the  dead  one,  which,  with  ourselves,  made 
quite  a  load  for  the  canoe. 

After  breakfasting  on  moose-meat,  we  returned  down 
Pine  Stream  on  our  way  to  Chesuncook  Lake,  which 
was  about  five  miles  distant.  We  could  see  the  red  car- 
cass of  the  moose  lying  in  Pine  Stream  when  nearly 
half  a  mile  off.  Just  below  the  mouth  of  this  stream 
were  the  most  considerable  rapids  between  the  two 
lakes,  called  Pine-Stream  Falls,  where  were  large  flat 
rocks  washed  smooth,  and  at  this  time  you  could  easily 
wade  across  above  them.  Joe  ran  down  alone  while  we 
walked  over  the  portage,  my  companion  collecting  spruce 
gum  for  his  friends  at  home,  and  I  looking  for  flowers. 
Near  the  lake,  which  we  were  approaching  with  as  much 
expectation  as  if  it  had  been  a  university,  —  for  it  is  not 
often  that  the  stream  of  our  life  opens  into  such  expan- 
sions,—  were  islands,  and  a  low  and  meadowy  shore 
with  scattered  trees,  birches,  white  and  yellow,  slanted 
over  the  water,  and  maples,  —  many  of  the  white  birches 


126  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

killed,  apparently  by  inundations.  There  was  consider- 
able native  grass ;  and  even  a  few  cattle  —  whose  move- 
ments we  heard,  though  we  did  not  see  them,  mistaking 
them  at  first  for  moose  —  were  pastured  there. 

On  entering  the  lake,  where  the  stream  runs  south- 
easterly, and  for  some  time  before,  we  had  a  view  of  the 
mountains  about  Ktaadn,  (Katahdinauquoh  one  says 
they  are  called,)  like  a  cluster  of  blue  fungi  of  rank 
growth,  apparently  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  distant,  in 
a  southeast  direction,  their  summits  concealed  by  clouds. 
Joe  called  some  of  them  the  Souadneunk  mountains. 
This  is  the  name  of  a  stream  there,  which  another  In- 
dian told  us  meant  "Running  between  mountains." 
Though  some  lower  summits  were  afterward  uncovered, 
we  got  no  more  complete  view  of  Ktaadn  while  we  were 
in  the  woods.  The  clearing  to  which  we  were  bound 
was  on  the  right  of  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  was 
reached  by  going  round  a  low  point,  where  the  water 
was  shallow  to  a  great  distance  from  the  shore.  Che- 
suncook  Lake  extends  northwest  and  southeast,  and  is 
called  eighteen  miles  long  and  three  wide,  without  an 
island.  "We  had  entered  the  northwest  corner  of  it,  and 
when  near  the  shore  could  see  only  part  way  down  it. 
The  principal  mountains  visible  from  the  land  here  were 
those  already  mentioned,  between  southeast  and  east, 
and  a  few  summits  a  little  west  of  north,  but  generally 
the  north  and  northwest  horizon  about  the  St.  John  and 
the  British  boundary  was  comparatively  level. 

Ansell  Smith's,  the  oldest  and  principal  clearing  about 
this  lake,  appeared  to  be  quite  a  harbor  for  bateaux  and 
canoes ;  seven  or  eight  of  the  former  were  lying  about, 
and  there  was  a  small  scow  for  hay,  and  a  capstan  on  a 
platform,  now  high  and  dry,  ready  to  be  floated  and  an- 


CHESUNCOOK.  127 

chored  to  tow  rafts  with.  It  was  a  very  primitive  kind 
of  harbor,  where  boats  were  drawn  up  amid  the  stumps, 
—  such  a  one,  methought,  as  the  Argo  might  have  been 
launched  in.  There  were  five  other  huts  with  small 
clearings  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake,  all  at  this  end 
and  visible  from  this  point.  One  of  the  Smiths  told  me 
that  it  was  so  far  cleared  that  they  came  here  to  live 
and  built  the  present  house  four  years  before,  though 
the  family  had  been  here  but  a  few  months. 

I  was  interested  to  see  how  a  pioneer  lived  on  this 
side  of  the  country.  His  life  is  in  some  respects  more 
adventurous  than  that  of  his  brother  in  the  West;  for 
he  contends  with  winter  as  well  as  the  wilderness,  and 
there  is  a  greater  interval  of  time  at  least  between  him 
and  the  army  which  is  to  follow.  Here  immigration  is  a 
tide  which  may  ebb  when  it  has  swept  away  the  pines ; 
there  it  is  not  a  tide,  but  an  inundation,  and  roads  and 
other  improvements  come  steadily  rushing  after. 

As  we  approached  the  log-house,  a  dozen  rods  from 
the  lake,  and  considerably  elevated  above  it,  the  project- 
ing ends  of  the  logs  lapping  over  each  other  irregularly 
several  feet  at  the  corners  gave  it  a  very  rich  and  pictu- 
resque look,  far  removed  from  the  meanness  of  weather- 
boards. It  was  a  very  spacious,  low  building,  about 
eighty  feet  long,  with  many  large  apartments.  The  walls 
were  well  clayed  between  the  logs,  which  were  large  and 
round,  except  on  the  upper  and  under  sides,  and  as  vis- 
ible inside  as  out,  successive  bulging  cheeks  gradually 
lessening  upwards  and  tuned  to  each  other  with  the  axe, 
like  Pandean  pipes.  Probably  the  musical  forest-gods  had 
not  yet  cast  them  aside  ;  they  never  do  till  they  are  split 
or  the  bark  is  gone.  It  was  a  style  of  architecture  not 
described  by  Vitruvius,  I  suspect,  though  possibly  hinted 


128  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

at  in  the  biography  of  Orpheus ;  none  of  your  frilled 
or  fluted  columns,  which  have  cut  such  a  false  swell, 
and  support  nothing  but  a  gable  end  and  their  builder's 
pretensions,  —  that  is,  with  the  multitude;  and  as  for 
"ornamentation,"  one  of  those  words  with  a  dead  tail 
which  architects  very  properly  use  to  describe  their  flour- 
ishes, there  were  the  lichens  and  mosses  and  fringes  of 
bark,  which  nobody  troubled  himself  about.  We  cer- 
tainly leave  the  handsomest  paint  and  clapboards  be- 
hind in  the  woods,  when  we  strip  off  the  bark  and  poison 
ourselves  with  white-lead  in  the  towns.  We  get  but 
half  the  spoils  of  the  forest.  For  beauty,  give  me  trees 
with  the  fur  on.  This  house  was  designed  and  con- 
structed with  the  freedom  of  stroke  of  a  forester's  axe, 
without  other  compass  and  square  than  Nature  uses. 
Wherever  the  logs  were  cut  off  by  a  window  or  door, 
that  is,,  were  not  kept  in  place  by  alternate  overlapping, 
they  were  held  one  upon  another  by  very  large  pins, 
driven  in  diagonally  on  each  side,  where  branches  might 
have  been,  and  then  cut  off  so  close  up  and  down  as  not 
to  project  beyond  the  bulge  of  the  log,  as  if  the  logs 
clasped  each  other  in  their  arms.  These  logs  were  posts, 
studs,  boards,  clapboards,  laths,  plaster,  and  nails,  all  in 
one.  Where  the  citizen  uses  a  mere  sliver  or  board,  the 
pioneer  uses  the  whole  trunk  of  a  tree.  The  house  had 
large  stone  chimneys,  and  was  roofed  with  spruce-bark. 
The  windows  were  imported,  all  but  the  casings.  One 
end  was  a  regular  logger's  camp,  for  the  boarders,  with 
the  usual  fir  floor  and  log  benches.  Thus  this  house  was 
but  a  slight  departure  from  the  hollow  tree,  which  the 
bear  still  inhabits,  —  being  a  hollow  made  with  trees 
piled  up,  with  a  coating  of  bark  like  its  original. 

The  cellar  was  a  separate  building,  like  an  ice-house, 


CHESUNCOOK.  129 

and  it  answered  for  a  refrigerator  at  this  season,  our 
moose-meat  being  kept  there.  It  was  a  potato-hole  with 
a  permanent  roof.  Each  structure  and  institution  here 
was  so  primitive  that  you  could  at  once  refer  it  to  its 
source ;  but  our  buildings  commonly  suggest  neither  their 
origin  nor  their  purpose.  There  was  a  large,  and  what 
farmers  would  call  handsome,  barn,  part  of  whose  boards 
had  been  sawed  by  a  whip-saw ;  and  the  saw-pit,  with  its 
great  pile  of  dust,  remained  before  the  house.  The  long 
split  shingles  on  a  portion  of  the  barn  were  laid  a  foot 
to  the  weather,  suggesting  what  kind  of  weather  they 
have  there.  Grant's  barn  at  Caribou  Lake  was  said  to 
be  still  larger,  the  biggest  ox-nest  in  the  woods,  fifty  feet 
by  a  hundred.  Think  of  a  monster  barn  in  that  primi- 
tive forest  lifting  its  gray  back  above  the  tree-tops ! 
Man  makes  very  much  such  a  nest  for  his  domestic  ani- 
mals, of  withered  grass  and  fodder,  as  the  squirrels  and 
many  other  wild  creatures  do  for  themselves. 

There  was  also  a  blacksmith's  shop,  where  plainly  a 
good  deal  of  work  was  done.  The  oxen  and  horses  used 
in  lumbering  operations  were  shod,  and  all  the  iron-work 
of  sleds,  etc.,  was  repaired  or  made  here.  I  saw  them 
load  a  bateau  at  the  Moosehead  carry,  the  next  Tuesday, 
with  about  thirteen  hundred  weight  of  bar  iron  for  this 
shop.  This  reminded  me  how  primitive  and  honorable 
a  trade  was  Vulcan's.  I  do  not  hear  that  there  was  any 
carpenter  or  tailor  among  the  gods.  The  smith  seems  to 
have  preceded  these  and  every  other  mechanic  at  Che- 
suncook  as  well  as  on  Olympus,  and  his  family  is  the 
most  widely  dispersed,  whether  he  be  christened  John  or 
Ansell. 

Smith  owned  two  miles  down  the  lake  by  half  a  mile 
in  width.  There  were  about  one  hundred  acres  cleared 

6*  I 


130  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

here.  He  cut  seventy  tons  of  English  hay  this  year  on 
this  ground,  and  twenty  more  on  another  clearing,  and 
he  uses  it  all  himself  in  lumbering  operations.  The  barn 
was  crowded  with  pressed  hay  and  a  machine  to  press  it. 
There  was  a  large  garden  full  of  roots,  turnips,  beets,  car- 
rots, potatoes,  etc.,  all  of  great  size.  They  said  that  they 
were  worth  as  much  here  as  in  New  York.  I  suggested 
some  currants  for  sauce,  especially  as  they  had  no  apple- 
trees  set  out,  and  showed  how  easily  they  could  be  ob- 
tained. 

There  was  the  usual  long-handled  axe  of  the  primitive 
woods  by  the  door,  three  and  a  half  feet  long,  —  for  my 
new  black-ash  rule  was  in  constant  use,  —  and  a  large, 
shaggy  dog,  whose  nose,  report  said,  was  full  of  porcu- 
pine quills.  I  can  testify  that  he  looked  very  sober. 
This  is  the  usual  fortune  of  pioneer  dogs,  for  they  have 
to  face  the  brunt  of  the  battle  for  their  race,  and  act  the 
part  of  Arnold  Winkelried  without  intending  it.  If  he 
should  invite  one  of  his  town  friends  up  this  way,  sug- 
gesting moose-meat  and  unlimited  freedom,  the  latter 
might  pertinently  inquire,  "  What  is  that  sticking  in  your 
nose  ?  "  When  a  generation  or  two  have  used  up  all  the 
enemies'  darts,  their  successors  lead  a  comparatively  easy 
life.  We  owe  to  our  fathers  analogous  blessings.  Many 
old  people  receive  pensions  for  no  other  reason,  it  seems 
to  me,  but  as  a  compensation  for  having  lived  a  long 
time  ago.  No  doubt  our  town  dogs  still  talk,  in  a  snuf- 
fling way,  about  the  days  that  tried  dogs'  noses.  How 
they  got  a  cfct  up  there  I  do  not  know,  for  they  are  as 
shy  as  my  aunt  about  entering  a  canoe.  I  wondered 
that  she  did  not  run  up  a  tree  on  the  way ;,  but  perhaps 
she  was  bewildered  by  the  very  crowd  of  opportunities. 

Twenty  or  thirty  lumberers,  Yankee  and   Canadian, 


CHESUNCOOK.  _     131 

were  coming  and  going,  —  Aleck  among  the  rest,  —  and 
from  time  to  time  an  Indian  touched  here.  In  the  win- 
ter there  are  sometimes  a  hundred  men  lodged  here  at 
once.  The  most  interesting  piece  of  news  that  circulated 
among  them .  appeared  to  be,  that  four  horses  belonging 
to  Smith,  worth  seven  hundred  dollars,  had  passed  by 
farther  into  the  woods  a  week  before. 

The  white-pine-tree  was  at  the  bottom  or  farther  end 
of  all  this.  It  is  a  war  against  the  pines,  the  only  real 
Aroostook  or  Penobscot  war.  I  have  no  doubt  that  they 
lived  pretty  much  the  same  sort  of  life  in  the  Homeric 
age,  for  men  have  always  thought  more  of  eating  than 
of  fighting ;  then,  as  now,  their  minds  ran  chiefly  on  the 
"  hot  bread  and  sweet  cakes  " ;  and  the  fur  and  lumber 
trade  is  an  old  story  to  Asia  and  Europe.  I  doubt  if 
men  ever  made  a  trade  of  heroism.  In  the  days  of 
Achilles,  even,  they  delighted  in  big  barns,  and  perchance 
in  pressed  hay,  and  he  who  possessed  the  most  valuable 
team  was  the  best  fellow. 

We  had  designed  to  go  on  at  evening  up  the  Caucom- 
gomoc,  whose  mouth  was  a  mile  or  two  distant,  to  the 
lake  of  the  same  name,  about  ten  miles  off;  but  some 
Indians  of  Joe's  acquaintance,  who  were  making  canoes 
on  the  Caucomgomoc,  came  over  from  that  side,  and  gave 
so  poor  an  account  of  the  moose-hunting,  so  many  had 
been  killed  there  lately,  that  my  companions  concluded 
not  to  go  there.  Joe  spent  this  Sunday  and  the  night 
with  his  acquaintances.  The  lumberers  told  me  that 
there  were  many  moose  hereabouts,  but  no  caribou  or 
deer.  A  man  from  Oldtown  had  killed  ten  or  twelve 
moose,  within  a  year,  so  near  the  house  that  they  heard 
all  his  guns.  His  name  may  have  been  Hercules,  for 
aught  I  know,  though  I  should  rather  have  expected  to 


132  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

hear  the  rattling  of  his  club ;  but,  no  doubt,  he  keeps 
pace  with  the  improvements  of  the  age,  and  uses  a 
Sharpe's  rifle  now ;  probably  he  gets  all  his  armor  made 
and  repaired  at  Smith's  shop.  One  moose  had  been 
killed  and  another  shot  at  within  sight  of  the  house 
within  two  years.  I  do  not  know  whether  Smith  has  yet 
got  a  poet  to  look  after  the  cattle,  which,  on  account  of 
the  early  breaking  up  of  the  ice,  are  compelled  to  sum- 
mer in  the  woods,  but  I  would  suggest  this  office  to  such 
of  my  acquaintances  as  love  to  write  verses  and  go  a- 
gunning. 

After  a  dinner,  at  which  apple-sauce  was  the  greatest 
luxury  to  me,  but  our  moose-meat  was  oftenest  called  for 
by  the  lumberers,  I  walked  across  the  clearing  into  the 
forest,  southward,  returning  along  the  shore.  For  my 
dessert,  I  helped  myself  to  a  large  slice  of  the  Chesun- 
cook  woods,  and  took  a  hearty  draught  of  its  waters  with 
all  my  senses.  The  woods  were  as  fresh  and  full  of 
vegetable  life  as  a  lichen  in  wet  weather,  and  contained 
many  interesting  plants ;  but  unless  they  are  of  white 
pine,  they  are  treated  with  as  little  respect  here  as  a 
mildew,  and  in  the  other  case  they  are  only  the  more 
quickly  cut  down.  The  shore  was  of  coarse,  flat,  slate 
rocks,  often  in  slabs,  with  the  surf  beating  on  it.  The 
rocks  and  bleached  drift-logs,  extending  some  way  into 
the  shaggy  woods,  showed  a  rise  and  fall  of  six  or  eight 
feet,  caused  partly  by  the  dam  at  the  outlet.  They  said 
that  in  winter  the  snow  was  three  feet  deep  on  a  level 
here,  and  sometimes  four  or  five,  —  that  the  ice  on  the 
lake  was  two  feet  thick,  clear,  and  four  feet  including 
the  snow-ice.  Ice  had  already  formed  in  vessels. 

We  lodged  here  this  Sunday  night  in  a  comfortable 
bedroom,  apparently  the  best  one ;  and  all  that  I  noticed 


CHESUNCOOK.  133 

unusual  in  the  night  —  for  I  still  kept  taking  notes,  like 
a  spy  in  the  camp  —  was  the  creaking  of  the  thin  split 
boards,  when  any  of  our  neighbors  stirred. 

Such  were  the  first  rude  beginnings  of  a  town.  They 
spoke  of  the  practicability  of  a  winter-road  to  the  Moose- 
head  carry,  which  would  not  cost  much,  and  would  con- 
nect them  with  steam  and  staging  and  all  the  busy  world. 
I  almost  doubted  if  the  lake  would  be  there,  —  the  self- 
same lake,  —  preserve  its  form  and  identity,  when  the 
shores  should  be  cleared  and  settled ;  as  if  these  lakes 
and  streams  which  explorers  report  never  awaited  the 
advent  of  the  citizen. 

The  sight  of  one  of  these  frontier-houses,  built  of  these 
great  logs,  whose  inhabitants  have  unflinchingly  main- 
tained their  ground  many  summers  and  winters  in  the 
wilderness,  reminds  me  of  famous  forts,  like  Ticonderoga 
or  Crown  Point,  which  have  sustained  memorable  sieges. 
They  are  especially  winter-quarters,  and  at  this  season* 
this  one  had  a  partially  deserted  look,  as  if  the  siege  were 
raised  a  little,  the  snow-banks  being  melted  from  before 
it,  and  its  garrison  accordingly  reduced.  I  think  of  their 
daily  food  as  rations,  —  it  is  called  "  supplies  " ;  a  Bible 
and  a  great-coat  are  munitions  of  war,  and  a  single  man 
seen  about  the  premises  is  a  sentinel  on  duty.  You 
expect  that  he  will  require  the  countersign,  and  will  per- 
chance take  you  for  Ethan  Allen,  come  to  demand  the 
surrender  of  his  fort  in  the  name  of  the  Continental  Con- 
gress. It  is  a  sort  of  ranger  service.  Arnold's  expedi- 
tion is  a  daily  experience  with  these  settlers.  They  can 
prove  that  they  were  out  at  almost  any  time ;  and  I  think 
that  all  the  first  generation  of  them  deserve  a  pension 
more  than  any  that  went  to  the  Mexican  war. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  started  on  our  return  up 


134  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

the  Penobscot,  my  companion  wishing  to  go  about  twen- 
ty-five miles  above  the  Moosehead  carry  to  a  camp  near 
the  junction  of  the  two  forks,  and  look  for  moose  there. 
Our  host  allowed  us  something  for  the  quarter  of  the 
moose  which  we  had  brought,  and  which  he  was  glad 
to  get.  Two  explorers  from  Chamberlain  Lake  started 
at  the  same  time  that  we  did.  Red-flannel  shirts  should 
be  worn  in  the  woods,  if  only  for  the  fine  contrast  which 
this  color  makes  with  the  evergreens  and  the  water. 
Thus  I  thought  when  I  saw  the  forms  of  the  explorers 
in  their  birch,  poling  up  the  rapids  before  us,  far  off 
against  the  forest.  It  is  the  surveyor's  color  also,  most 
distinctly  seen  under  all  circumstances.  We  stopped 
to  dine  at  Ragmuff,  as  before.  My  companion  it  was 
who  wandered  up  the  stream  to  look  for  moose  this 
time,  while  Joe  went  to  sleep  on  the  bank,  so  that  we 
felt  sure  of  him;  and  I  improved  the  opportunity  to 
botanize  and  bathe.  Soon  after  starting  again,  while 
Joe  was  gone  back  in  .the  canoe  for  the  frying-pan, 
which  had  been  left,  we  picked  a  couple  of  quarts  of 
tree-cranberries  for  a  sauce. 

I  was  surprised  by  Joe's  asking  me  how  far  it  was 
to  the  Moosehorn.  He  was  pretty  well  acquainted  with 
this  stream,  but  he  had  noticed  that  I  was  curious  about 
distances,  and  had  several  maps.  He,  and  Indians 
generally,  with  whom  I  have  talked,  are  not  able  to 
describe  dimensions  or  distances  in  our  measures  with 
any  accuracy.  He  could  tell  perhaps,  at  what  time  we 
should  arrive,  but  not  how  far  it  was.  We  saw  a  few 
wood-ducks,  sheldrakes,  and  black  ducks,  but  they  were 
not  so  numerous  there  at  that  season  as  on  our  river 
at  home.  We  scared  the  same  family  of  wood-ducks 
before  us,  going  and  returning.  We  also  heard  the 


CHESUNCOOK.  135 

note  of  one  fish-hawk,  somewhat  like  that  of  a  pigeon- 
woodpecker,  and  soon  after  saw  him  perched  near  the 
top  of  a  dead  white-pine  against  the  island  where  we 
had  first  camped,  while  a  company  of  peetweets  were 
twittering  and  teetering  about  over  the  carcass  of  a 
moose  on  a  low  sandy  spit  just  beneath.  We  drove  the 
fish-hawk  from  perch  to  perch,  each  time  eliciting  a 
scream  or  whistle,  for  many  miles  before  us.  Our 
course  being  up-stream,  we  were  obliged  to  work  much 
harder  than  before,  and  had  frequent  use  for  a  pole. 
Sometimes  all  three  of  us  paddled  together,  standing 
up,  small  and  heavily  laden  as  the  canoe  was.  About 
six  miles  from  Moosehead^  we  began  to  see  the  moun- 
tains east  of  the  north  end  of  the  lake,  and  at  four 
o'clock  we  reached  the  carry. 

The  Indians  were  still  encamped  here.  There  were 
three,  including  the  St.  Francis  Indian  who  had  come 
in  the  steamer  with  us.  One  of  the  others  was  called 
Sabattis.  Joe  and  the  St.  Francis  Indian  were  plainly 
clear  Indian,  the  other  two  apparently  mixed  Indian  and 
white ;  but  the  difference  was  confined  to  their  features 
and  complexions,  for  all  that  I  could  see.  We  here 
cooked  the  tongue  of  the  moose  for  supper,  —  having 
left  the  nose,  which  is  esteemed  the  choicest  part,  at 
Chesuncook,  boiling,  it  being  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to 
prepare  it.  We  also  stewed  our  tree-cranberries,  (  Vi- 
burnum opulus,)  sweetening  them  with  sugar.  The 
lumberers  sometimes  cook  them  with  molasses.  They 
were  used  in  Arnold's  expedition.  This  sauce  was  very 
grateful  to  us  who  had  been  confined  to  hard  bread, 
pork,  and  moose-meat,  and,  notwithstanding  their  seeds, 
we  all  three  pronounced  them  equal  to  the  common 
cranberry;  but  perhaps  some  allowance  is  to  be  made 


136  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

for  our  forest  appetites.  It  would  be  worth  the  while 
to  cultivate  them,  both  for  beauty  and  for  food.  I 
afterward  saw  them  in  a  garden  in  Bangor.  Joe  said 
that  they  were  called  ebeemenar. 

While  we  were  getting  supper,  Joe  commenced  curing 
the  moose-hide,  on  which  I  had  sat  a  good  part  of  the 
voyage,  he  having  already  cut  most  of  the  hair  off  with 
his  knife  at  the  Caucomgomoc.  He  set  up  two  stout 
forked  poles  on  the  bank,  seven  or  eight  feet  high,  and 
as  much  asunder  east  and  west,  and  having  cut  slits 
eight  or  ten  inches  long,  and  the  same  distance  apart, 
close  to  the  edge,  on  the  sides  of  the  hide,  he  threaded 
poles  through  them,  and  then,  placing  one  of  the  poles 
on  the  forked  stakes,  tied  the  other  down  tightly  at  the 
bottom.  The  two  ends  also  were  tied  with  cedar-bark, 
their  usual  string,  to  the  upright  poles,  through  small 
holes  at  short  intervals.  The  hide,  thus  stretched,  and 
slanted  a  little  to  the  north,  to  expose  its  flesh  side  to 
the  sun,  measured,  in  the  extreme,  eight  feet  long  by 
six  high.  Where  any  flesh  still  adhered,  Joe  boldly 
scored  it  with  his  l^nife  to  lay  it  open  to  the  sun.  It 
now  appeared  somewhat  spotted  and  injured  by  the  duck 
shot.  You  may  see  the  old  frames  on  which  hides  have 
been  stretched  at  many  camping-places  in  these  woods. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  the  going  to  the  forks  of 
the  Penobscot  was  given  up,  and  we  decided  to  stop 
here,  my  companion  intending  to  hunt  down  the  stream 
at  night.  The  Indians  invited  us  to  lodge  with  them, 
but  my  companion  inclined  to  go  to  the  log-camp  on 
the  carry.  This  camp  was  close  and  dirty,  and  had  an 
ill  smell,  and  I  preferred  to  accept  the  Indians'  offer, 
if  we  did  not  make  a  camp  for  ourselves ;  for,  though 
they  were  dirty,  too,  they  were  more  in  the  open  air, 


CHESUNCOOK.  137 

and  were  much  more  agreeable,  and  even  refined  com- 
pany, than  the  lumberers.  The  most  interesting  ques- 
tion entertained  at  the  lumberers'  camp  was,  which  man 
could  "handle"  any  other  on  the  carry;  and,  for  the 
most  part,  they  possessed  no  qualities  which  you  could 
not  lay  hands  on.  So  we  went  to  the  Indians'  camp  or 
wigwam. 

It  was  rather  windy,  and  therefore  Joe  concluded  to 
hunt  after  midnight,  if  the  wind  went  down,  which  the 
other  Indians  thought  it  would  not  do,  because  it  was 
from  the  south.  The  two  mixed-bloods,  however,  went 
off  up  the  river  for  moose  at  dark,  before  we  arrived 
at  their  camp.  This  Indian  camp  was  a  slight,  patched- 
up  affair,  which  had  stood  there  several  weeks,  built 
shed-fashion,  open  to  the  fire  on  the  west.  If  the  wind 
changed,  they  could  turn  it  round.  It  was  formed  by 
two  forked  stakes  and  a  cross-bar,  with  rafters  slanted 
from  this  to  the  ground.  The  covering  was  partly  an 
old  sail,  partly  birch-bark,  quite  imperfect,  but  securely 
tied  on,  and  coming  down  to  the  ground  on  the  sides. 
A  large  log  was  rolled  up  at  the  back  side  for  a  head- 
board, and  two  or  three  moose-hides  were  spread  on 
the  ground  with  the  hair  up.  Various  articles  of  their 
wardrobe  were  tucked  around  the  sides  and  corners,  or 
under  the  roof.  They  were  smoking  moose-meat  on  just 
such  a  crate  as  is  represented  by  With,  in  De  Bry's 
"  Collectio  Peregrinationum,"  published  in  1588,  and 
which  the  natives  of  Brazil  called  boucan,  (whence  buc- 
caneer,) on  which  were  frequently  shown  pieces  of 
human  flesh  drying  along  with  the  rest.  It  was  erected 
in  front  of  the  camp  over  the  usual  large  fire,  in  the 
form  of  an  oblong  square.  Two  stout  forked  stakes, 
four  or  five  feet  apart  and  five  feet  high,  were  driven 


138  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

into  the  ground  at  each  end,  and  then  two  poles  ten  feet 
long  were  stretched  across  over  the  'fire,  and  smaller 
ones  laid  transversely  on  these  a  foot  apart.  On  the 
last  hung  large,  thin  slices  of  moose-meat  smoking  and 
drying,  a  space  being  left  open  over  the  centre  of  the 
fire.  There  was  the  whole  heart,  black  as  a  thirty-two 
pound  ball,  hanging  at  one  corner.  They  said,  that  it 
took  three  or  four  days  to  cure  this  meat,  and  it  would 
keep  a  year  or  more.  Refuse  pieces  lay  about  on  the 
ground  in  different  stages  of  decay,  and  some  pieces 
also  in  the  fire,  half  buried  and  sizzling  in  the  ashes, 
as  black  and  dirty  as  an  old  shoe.  These  last  I  at  first 
thought  were  thrown  away,  but  afterwards  found  that 
they  were  being  cooked.  Also  a  tremendous  rib-piece 
was  roasting  before  the  fire,  being  impaled  on  an  upright 
stake  forced  in  and  out  between  the  ribs.  There  was  a 
moose-hide  stretched  and  curing  on  poles  like  ours,  and 
quite  a  pile  of  cured  skins  close  by.  They  had  killed 
twenty-two  moose  within  two  months,  but,  as  they  could 
use  but  very  little  of  the  meat,  they  left  the  carcasses 
on  the  ground.  Altogether  it  was  about  as  savage  a 
sight  as  was  ever  witnessed,  and  I  was  carried  back  at 
once  three  hundred  years.  There  were  many  torches 
of  birch-bark,  shaped  like  straight  tin  horns,  lying  ready 
for  use  on  a  stump  outside. 

For  fear  of  dirt,  we  spread  our  blankets  over  their 
hides,  so  as  not  to  touch  them  anywhere.  The  St.  Fran- 
cis Indian  and  Joe  alone  were  there  at  first,  and  we  lay 
on  our  backs  talking  with  them  till  midnight.  They 
were  very  sociable,  and,  when  they  did  not  talk  with  us, 
kept  up  a  steady  chatting  in  their  own  language.  We 
heard  a  small  bird  just  after  dark,  which,  Joe  said,  sang 
at  a  certain  hour  in  the  night,  —  at  ten  o'clock,  he 


CHESUNCOOK.  139 

believed.  We  also  heard  the  hylodes  and  tree-toads, 
and  the  lumberers  singing  in  their  camp  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  off.  I  told  them  that  I  had  seen  pictured  in  old 
books  pieces  of  human  flesh  drying  on  these  crates; 
whereupon  they  repeated  some  tradition  about  the  Mo- 
hawks eating  human  flesh,  what  parts  they  preferred, 
etc.,  and  also  of  a  battle  with  the  Mohawks  near  Moose- 
head,  in  which  many  of  the  latter  were  killed ;  but  I 
found  that  they  knew  but  little  of  the  history  of  their 
race,  and  could  be  entertained  by  stories  about  their 
ancestors  as  readily  as  any  way.  At  first  I  was  nearly 
roasted  out,  for  I  lay  against  one  side  of  the  camp,  and 
felt  the  heat  reflected  not  only  from  the  birch-bark  above, 
but  from  the  side ;  and  again  I  remembered  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  Jesuit  missionaries,  and  what  extremes  of 
heat  and  cold  the  Indians  were  said  to  endure.  I  strug- 
gled long  between  my  desire  to  remain  and  talk  with 
them,  and  my  impulse  to  rush  out  and  stretch  myself  on 
the  cool  grass ;  and  when  I  was  about  to  take  the  last 
step,  Joe,  hearing  my  murmurs,  or  else  being  uncomfort- 
able himself,  got  up  and  partially  dispersed  the  fire.  I 
suppose  that  that  is  Indian  manners,  —  to  defend  your- 
self. 

While  lying  there  listening  to  the  Indians,  I  amused 
myself  with  trying  to  guess  at  their  subject  by  their 
gestures,  or  some  proper  name  introduced.  There  can 
be  no  more  startling  evidence  of  their  being  a  distinct 
and  comparatively  aboriginal  race,  than  to  hear  this  unal- 
tered Indian  language,  which  the  white  man  cannot  speak 
nor  understand.  We  may  suspect  change  and  deteriora- 
tion in  almost  every  other  particular,  but  the  language 
which  is  so  wholly  unintelligible  to  us.  It  took  me  by 
surprise,  though  I  had  found  so  many  arrow-heads,  and 


140  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

convinced  me  that  the  Indian  was  not  the  invention  of 
historians  and  poets.  It  was  a  purely  wild  and  primitive 
American  sound,  as  much  as  the  barking  of  a  chickaree, 
and  I  could  not  understand  a  syllable  of  it ;  but  Paugus, 
had  he  been  there,  would  have  understood  it.  These 
Abenakis  gossiped,  laughed,  and  jested,  in  the  language 
in  which  Eliot's  Indian  Bible  is  written,  the  language 
which  has  been  spoken  in  New  England  who  shall  say 
how  long  ?  These  were  the  sounds  that  issued  from  the 
wigwams  of  this  country  before  Columbus  was  born  ; 
they  have  not  yet  died  away ;  and,  with  remarkably  few 
exceptions,  the  language  of  their  forefathers  is  still  copi- 
ous enough  for  them.  I  felt  that  I  stood,  or  rather  lay, 
as  near  to  the  primitive  man  of  America,  that  night,  as 
any  of  its  discoverers  ever  did. 

In  the  midst  of  their  conversation,  Joe  suddenly  ap- 
pealed to  me  to  know  how  long  Moosehead  Lake  was. 

Meanwhile,  as  we  lay  there,  Joe  was  making  and  try- 
ing his  horn,  to  be  ready  for  hunting  after  midnight. 
The  St.  Francis  Indian  also  amused  himself  with  sound- 
ing it,  or  rather  calling  through  it ;  for  the  sound  is  made 
with  the  voice,  and  not  by  blowing  through  the  horn. 
The  latter  appeared  to  be  a  speculator  in  moose-hides. 
He  bought  my  companion's  for  two  dollars  and  a  quarter, 
green.  Joe  said  that  it  was  worth  two  and  a  half  at  Old- 
town.  Its  chief  use  is  for  moccasins.  One  or  two  of 
these  Indians  wore  them.  I  was  told,  that,  by  a  recent 
law  of  Maine,  foreigners  are  not  allowed  to  kill  moose 
there  at  any  season  ;  white  Americans  can  kill  them  only 
at  a  particular  season,  but  the  Indians  of  Maine  at  all 
seasons.  The  St.  Francis  Indian  accordingly  asked  my 
companion  for  a  wighiggin,  or  bill,  to  show,  since  he  was 
a  foreigner.  He  lived  near  Sorel.  I  found  that  he  could 


CHESUNCOOK.  141 

write  his  name  very  well,  Tahmunt  Swasen.  One  Ellis, 
an  old  white  man  of  Guilford,  a  town  through  which  we 
passed,  not  far  from  the  south  end  of  Moosehead,  was  the 
most  celebrated  moose-hunter  of  those  parts.  Indians 
and  whites  spoke  with  equal  respect  of  him.  Tahmunt 
said,  that  there  were  more  moose  here  than  in  the  Adi- 
rondack country  in  New  York,  where  he  had  hunted ; 
that  three  years  before  there  were  a  great  many  about, 
and  there  were  a  great  many  now  in  the  woods,  but  they 
did  not  come  out  to  the  water.  It  was  of  no  use  to  hunt 
them  at  midnight,  —  they  would  not  come  out  then.  I 
asked  Sabattis,  after  he  came  home,  if  the  moose  never 
attacked  him.  He  answered,  that  you  must  not  fire  many 
times  so  as  to  mad  him.  "  I  fire  once  and  hit  him  in  the 
right  place,  and  in  the  morning  I  find  him.  He  won't 
go  far.  But  if  you  keep  firing,  you  mad  him.  I  fired 
once,  five  bullets,  every  one  through  the  heart,  and  he 
did  not  mind  'em  at  all ;  it  only  made  him  more  mad." 
I  asked  him  if  they  did  not  hunt  them  with  dogs.  He 
said,  that  th^y  did  so  in  winter,  but  never  in  the  summer, 
for  then  it  was  of  no  use;  they  would  run  right  off 
straight  and  swiftly  a  hundred  miles. 

Another  Indian  said,  that  the  moose,  once  scared,  would 
run  all  day.  A  dog  will  hang  to  their  lips,  and  be  car- 
ried along  till  he  is  swung  against  a  tree  and  drops  off. 
They  cannot  run  on  a  "  glaze,"  though  they  can  run  hi 
snow  four  feet  deep ;  but  the  caribou  can  run  on  ice. 
They  commonly  find  two  or  three  moose  together.  They 
cover  themselves  with  water,  all  but  their  noses,  to  escape 
flies.  He  had  the  horns  of  what  he  called  "  the  black 
moose  that  goes  in  low  lands."  These  spread  three  or 
four  feet.  The  "red  moose"  was  another  kind,  "run- 
ning on  mountains,"  and  had  horns  which  spread  six  feet. 


142  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Such  were  his  distinctions.  Both  can  move  their  horns. 
The  broad  flat  blades  are  covered  with  hair,  and  are  so 
soft,  when  the  animal  is  alive,  that  you  can  run  a  knife 
through  them.  They  regard  it  as  a  good  or  bad  sign,  if 
the  horns  turn  this  way  or  that. '  His  caribou  horns  had 
been  gnawed  by  mice  in  his  wigwam,  but  he  thought  that 
the  horns  neither  of  the  moose  nor  of  the  caribou  were 
ever  gnawed  while  the  creature  was  alive,  as  some  have 
asserted.  An  Indian,  whom  I  met  after  this  at  Oldtown, 
who  had  carried  about  a  bear  and  other  animals  of  Maine 
to  exhibit,  told  me  that  thirty  years  ago  there  were  not 
so  many  moose  in  Maine  as  now ;  also,  that  the  moose 
were  very  easily  tamed,  and  would  come  back  when  once 
fed,  and  so  would  deer,  but  not  caribou.  The  Indians  of 
this  neighborhood  are  about  as  familiar  with  the  moose 
as  we  are  with  the  ox,  having  associated  with  them  for 
so  many  generations.  Father  Rasles,  in  his  Dictionary 
of  the  Abenaki  Language,  gives  not  only  a  word  for  the 
male  moose,  (aianbe,)  and  another  for  the  female,  (herar,) 
but  for  the  bone  which  is  in  the  middle  of  the  heart  of 
the  moose  (!),  and  for  his  left  hind-leg. 

There  were  none  of  the  small  deer  up  there ;  they  are 
more  common  about  the  settlements.  One  ran  into  the 
city  of  Bangor  two  years  before,  and  jumped  through  a 
window  of  costly  plate  glass,  and  then  into  a  mirror, 
where  it  thought  it  recognized  one  of  its  kind,  and  out 
again,  and  so  on,  leaping  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd, 
until  it  was  captured.  This  the  inhabitants  speak  of  as 
the  deer  lhat  went  a-shopping.  The  last-mentioned  In- 
dian spoke  of  the  lunxus  or  Indian  devil,  (which  I  take  to 
be  the  cougar,  and  not  the  Gulo  luscus,)  as  the  only  animal 
in  Maine  which  man  need  fear ;  it  would  follow  a  man, 
and  did  not  mind  a  fire.  He  also  said,  that  beavers 


CHESUNCOOK.  143 

were  getting  to  be  pretty  numerous  again,  where  we  went, 
but  their  skins  brought  so  little  now  that  it  was  not  prof- 
itable to  hunt  them. 

I  had  put  the  ears  of  our  moose,  which  were  ten  inches 
long,  to  dry  along  with  the  moose-meat  over  the  fire, 
wishing  to  preserve  them ;  but  Sabattis  told  me  that  I 
must  skin  and  cure  them,  else  the  hair  would  all  come 
off.  He  observed,  that  they  made  tobacco-pouches  of  the 
skins  of  their  ears,  putting  the  two  together  inside  to  in- 
side. I  asked  him  how  he  got  fire ;  and  he  produced  a 
little  cylindrical  box  of  friction-matches.  He  also  had 
flints  and  steel,  and  some  punk,  which  was  not  dry ;  I 
think  it  was  from  the  yellow  birch.  "  But  suppose  you 
upset,  and  all  these  and  your  powder  get  wet."  "  Then," 
said  he,  "  we  wait  till  we  get  to  where  there  is  some  fire." 
I  produced  from  my  pocket  a  little  vial,  containing 
matches,  stoppled  water-tight,  and  told  him,  that,  though 
we  were  upset,  we  should  still  have  some  dry  matches ; 
at  which  he  stared  without  saying  a  word. 

We  lay  awake  thus  a  long  while  talking,  and  they  gave 
us  the  meaning  of  many  Indian  names  of  lakes  and 
streams  in  the  vicinity,  —  especially  Tahmunt.  I  asked 
the  Indian  name  of  Moosehead  Lake.  Joe  answered, 
Sebamook ;  Tahmunt  pronounced  it  SebemooL  When 
I  asked  what  it  meant,  they  answered,  Moosehead  Lake. 
At  length,  getting  my  meaning,  they  alternately  repeated 
the  word  over  to  themselves,  as  a  philologist  might,  — 
Sebamook,  —  Sebamook,  —  now  and  then  comparing  notes 
in  Indian ;  for  there  was  a  slight  difference  in  their  di- 
alects ;  and  finally  Tahmunt  said,  "  Ugh !  I  know,"  — 
and  he  rose  up  partly  on  the  moose-hide,  —  "  like  as  here 
is  a  place,  and  there  is  a  place,"  pointing  to  different 
parts  of  the  hide,  "  and  you  take  water  from  there  and 


144  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

fill  this,  and  it  stays  here  ;  that  is  SebamooL"  I  under- 
stood him  to  mean  that  it  was  a  reservoir  of  water  which 
did  not  run  away,  the  river  coming  in  on  one  side  and 
passing  out  again  near  the  same  place,  leaving  a  perma- 
nent bay.  Another  Indian  said,  that  it  meant  Large- 
Bay  Lake,  and  that  Sebago  and  Sebec,  the  names  of 
other  lakes,  were  kindred  words,  meaning  large  open 
water.  Joe  said  that  Seboois  meant  Little  River.  I 
observed  their  inability,  often  described,  to  convey  an 
abstract  idea.  Having  got  the  idea,  though  indistinctly, 
they  groped  about  in  vain  for  words  with  which  to  ex- 
press it.  Tahmunt  thought  that  the  whites  called  it 
Moosehead  Lake,  because  Mount  Kineo,  which  com- 
mands it,  is  shaped  like  a  moose's  head,  and  that  Moose 
River  was  so  called  "  because  the  mountain  points  right 
across  the  lake  to  its  mouth."  John  Josselyn,  writing 
about  1673,  says,  "Twelve  miles  from  Casco  Bay,  and 
passable  for  men  and  horses,  is  a  lake,  called  by  the  In- 
dians Sebug.  On  the  brink  thereof,  at  one  end,  is  the 
famous  rock,  shaped  like  a  moose  deer  or  helk,  diaph- 
anous, and  called  the  Moose  Rock."  He  appears  to  have 
confounded  Sebamook  with  Sebago,  which  is  nearer,  but 
has  no  "  diaphanous  "  rock  on  its  shore. 

I  give  more  of  their  definitions,  for  what  they  are 
worth,  —  partly  because  they  differ  sometimes  from  the 
commonly  received  ones.  They  never  analyzed  these 
words  before.  After  long  deliberation  and  repeating  of 
the  word,  for  it  gave  much  trouble,  Tahmunt  said  that 
ChesuncooJc  meant  a  place  where  many  streams  emptied 
in  (?),  and  he  enumerated  them,  —  Penobscot,  Umba- 
zookskus,  Cusabesex,  Red  Brook,  etc.  —  "  Caucomgomoc, 
—  what  does  that  mean  ?  "  "  What  are  those  large  white 
birds?"  he  asked.  "Gulls,"  said  I.  "Ugh!  Gull 


CHESUNCOOK.  145 

Lake."  —  Pammadumcook,  Joe  thought,  meant  the  Lake 
with  Gravelly  Bottom  or  Bed.  —  Kenduskeag,  Tahmunt 
concluded  at  last,  after  asking  if  birches  went  up  it,  for  he 
said  that  he  was  not  much  acquainted  with  it,  meant  some- 
thing like  this  :  "  You  go  up  Penobscot  till  you  come  to 
Kenduskeag,  and  you  go  by,  you  don't  turn  up  there. 
That  is  Kenduskeag"  (?)  Another  Indian,  however, 
who  knew  the  river  better,  told  us  afterward  that  it 
meant  Little  Eel  River.  —  Mattawamkeag  was  a  place 
where  two  rivers  meet.  (?)  —  Penobscot  was  Rocky 
River.  One  writer  says,  that  this  was  "  originally  the 
name  of  only  a  section  of  the  main  channel,  from  the 
head  of  the  tide-water  to  a  short  distance  above  Old- 
town." 

A  very  intelligent  Indian,  whom  we  afterward  met, 
son-in-law  of  Neptune,  gave  us  also  these  other  defi- 
nitions:—  Umbazookskus,  Meadow  Stream;  Millinoket, 
Place  of  Islands ;  Aboljacarmegus,  Smooth-Ledge  Falls 
(and  Dead- Water) ;  Aboljacarmeguscook,  the  stream 
emptying  in ;  (the  last  was  the  word  he  gave  when  I 
asked  about  Aboljacknagesic,  which  he  did  not  recog- 
nize;) Mattahumkeag,  Sand-Creek  Pond;  Piscataquis, 
Branch  of  a  River. 

I  asked  our  hosts  what  Musketaquid,  the  Indian  name 
of  Concord,  Massachusetts,  meant ;  but  they  changed  it 
to  Musketicook,  and  repeated  that,  and  Tahmunt  said  that 
it  meant  Dead  Stream,  which  is  probably  true.  Cook 
appears  to  mean  stream,  and  perhaps  quid  signifies  the 
place  or  ground.  When  I  asked  the  meaning  of  the 
names  of  two  of  our  hills,  they  answered  that  they  were 
another  language.  As  Tahmunt  said  that  he  traded  at 
Quebec,  my  companion  inquired  the  meaning  of  the  word 
Quebec,  about  which  there  has  been  so  much  question. 
7  j 


146  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

He  did  not  know,  but  began  to  conjecture.  He  asked 
what  those  great  ships  were  called .  that  carried  soldiers. 
"  Men-of-war,"  we  answered.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  when 
the  English  ships  came  up  the  river,  they  could  not  go 
any  farther,  it  was  so  narrow  there  ;  they  must  go  back, 
—  go-back,  —  that 's  Que-bec."  I  mention  this  to  show 
the  value  of  his  authority  in  the  other  cases. 

Late  at  night  the  other  two  Indians  came  home  from 
moose-hunting,  not  having  been  successful,  aroused  the 
fire  again,  lighted  their  pipes,  smoked  awhile,  took  some- 
thing strong  to  drink,  and  ate  some  moose-meat,  and, 
finding  what  room  they  could,  lay  down  on  the  moose- 
hides  ;  and  thus  we  passed  the  night,  two  white  men  and 
four  Indians,  side  by  side. 

When  I  awoke  in  the  morning  the  weather  was  driz- 
zling. One  of  the  Indians  was  lying  outside,  rolled  in 
his  blanket,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  for  want  of 
room.  Joe  had  neglected  to  awake  my  companion,  and 
he  had  done  no  hunting  that  night.  Tahmunt  was  mak- 
ing a  cross-bar  for  his  canoe  with  a  singularly  shaped 
knife,  such  as  I  have  since  seen  other  Indians  using. 
The  blade  was  thin,  about  three  quarters  of  an  inch  wide, 
and  eight  or  nine  inches  long,  but  curved  out  of  its  plane 
into  a  hook,  which  he  said  made  it  more  convenient  to 
shave  with.  As  the  Indians  very  far  north  and  north- 
west use  the  same  kind  of  knife,  I  suspect  that  it  was 
made  according  to  an  aboriginal  pattern,  though  some 
white  artisans  may  use  a  similar  one.  The  Indians 
baked  a  loaf  of  flour  bread  in  a  spider  on  its  edge  before 
the  fire  for  their  breakfast ;  and  while  my  companion  was 
making  tea,  I  caught  a  dozen  sizable  fishes  in  the  Pe- 
nobscot,  two  kinds  of  sucker  and  one  trout.  After  we 
}iad  breakfasted  by  ourselves,  one  of  our  bedfellows,  who 


CHESUNCOOK.  147 

had  also  breakfasted,  came  along,  and,  being  invited, 
took  a  cup  of  tea,  and  finally,  taking  up  the  common 
platter,  licked  it  clean.  But  he  was  nothing  to  a  white 
fellow,  a  lumberer,  who  was  continually  stuffing  himself 
with  the  Indians'  moose-meat,  and  was  the  butt  of  his 
companions  accordingly.  He  seems  to  have  thought  that 
it  was  a  feast  "  to  eat  all."  It  is  commonly  said  that  the 
white  man  finally  surpasses  the  Indian  on  his  owa 
ground,  and  it  was  proved  true  in  this  case.  I  cannot 
swear  to  his  employment  during  the  hours  of  darkness, 
but  I  saw  him  at  it  again  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  though 
he  came  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  his  work. 

The  rain  prevented  our  continuing  any  longer  in  the 
woods  ;  so  giving  some  of  our  provisions  and  utensils  to 
the  Indians,  we  took  leave  of  them.  This  being  the 
steamer's  day,  I  set  out  for  the  lake  at  once. 

I  walked  over  the  carry  alone  and  waited  at  the  head 
of  the  lake.  An  eagle,  or  some  other  large  bird,  flew 
screaming  away  from  its  perch  by  the  shore  at  my 
approach.  For  an  hour  after  I  reached  the  shore  there 
was  not  a  human  being  to  be  seen,  and  I  had  all  that 
wide  prospect  to  myself.  I  thought  that  I  heard  the 
sound  of  the  steamer  before  she  came  in  sight  on  the  open 
lake.  I  noticed  at  the  landing,  when  the  steamer  came 
in,  one  of  our  bedfellows,  who  had  been  a-moose-hunting 
the  night  before,  now  very  sprucely  dressed  in  a  clean 
white  shirt  and  fine  black  pants,  a  true  Indian  dandy, 
who  had  evidently  come  over  the  carry  to  show  himself 
to  any  arrivers  on  the  north  shore  of  Moosehead  Lake, 
just  as  New  York  dandies  take  a  turn  up  Broadway  and 
stand  on  the  steps  of  a  hotel. 

Midway  the  lake  we  took  on  board  two  manly-looking 
middle-aged  men,  with  their  bateau,  w^o  had  been  explor- 


148  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

ing  for  six  weeks  as  far  as  the  Canada  line,  and  had  let 
their  beards  grow.  They  had  the  skin  of  a  beaver,  which 
they  had  recently  caught,  stretched  on  an  oval  hoop, 
though  the  fur  was  not  good  at  that  season.  I  talked 
with  one  of  them,  telling  him  that  I  had  come  all  this 
distance  partly  to  see  where  the  white-pine,  the  Eastern 
stuff  of  which  our  houses  are  built,  grew,  but  that  on  this 
and  a  previous  excursion  into  another  part  of  Maine  I 
had  found  it  a  scarce  tree ;  and  I  asked  him  where  I 
must  look  for  it.  With  a  smile,  he  answered,  that  he 
could  hardly  tell  me.  However,  he  said  that  he  had 
found  enough  to  employ  two  teams  the  next  winter  in  a 
place  where  there  was  thought  to  be  none  left.  What 
was  considered  a  "  tip-top  "  tree  now  was  not  looked  at 
twenty  years  ago,  when  he  first  went  into  the  business ; 
but  they  succeeded  very  well  now  with  what  was  con- 
sidered quite  inferior  timber  then.  The  explorer  used 
to  cut  into  a  tree  higher  and  higher  up,  to  see  if  it  was 
false-hearted,  and  if  there  was  a  rotten  heart  as  big  as 
his  arm,  he  let  it  alone ;  but  now  they  cut  such  a  tree, 
and  sawed  it  all  around  the  rot,  and  it  made  the  very 
best  of  boards,  for  in  such  a  case  they  were  never  shaky. 
One  connected  with  lumbering  operations  at  Bangor 
told  me  that  the  largest  pine  belonging  to  his  firm,  cut 
the  previous  winter,  "  scaled  "  in  the  woods  four  thousand 
five  hundred  feet,  and  was  worth  ninety  dollars  in  the 
log  at  the  Bangor  boom  in  Oldtown.  They  cut  a  road 
three  and  a  half  miles  long  for  this  tree  alone.  He 
thought  that  the  principal  locality  for  the  white-pine  that 
came  down  the  Penobscot  now  was  at  the  head  of  the 
East  Branch  and  the  Allegash,  about  Webster  Stream 
and  Eagle  and  Chamberlain  Lakes.  Much  timber  has 
been  stolen  from  the  public  lands.  (Pray,  what  kind  of 


CHESUNCOOK.  149 

forest-warden  is  the  Public  itself?)  I  heard  of  one  man 
who,  having  discovered  some  particularly  fine  trees  just 
within  the  boundaries  of  the  public  lands,  and  not  daring 
to  employ  an  accomplice,  cut  them  down,  and  by  means 
of  block  and  tackle,  without  cattle,  tumbled  them  into  a 
stream,  and  so  succeeded  in  getting  off  with  them  with- 
out the  least  assistance.  Surely,  stealing  pine-trees  in 
this  way  is  not  so  mean  as  robbing  hen-roosts. 

We  reached  Monson  that  night,  and  the  next  day  rode 
to  Bangor,  all  the  way  in  the  rain  again,  varying  our 
route  a  little.  Some  of  the  taverns  on  this  road,  which 
were  particularly  dirty,  were  plainly  in  a  transition  state 
from  the  camp  to  the  house. 

The  next  forenoon  we  went  to  Oldtown.  One  slender 
old  Indian  on  the  Oldtown  shore,  who  recognized  my 
companion,  was  full  of  mirth  and  gestures,  like  a  French- 
man. A  Catholic  priest  crossed  to  the  island  in  the  same 
lateau  with  us.  The  Indian  houses  are  framed,  mostly 
of  one  story,  and  in  rows  one  behind  another,  at  the  south 
end  of  the  island,  with  a  few  scattered  ones.  I  counted 
about  forty,  not  including  the  church  and  what  my  com- 
panion called  the  council-house.  The  last,  which  I  sup- 
pose is  their  town-house,  was  regularly  framed  and  shin- 
gled like  the  rest.  There  were  several  of  two  stories, 
quite  neat,  with  front-yards  enclosed,  and  one  at  least  had 
green  blinds.  Here  and  there  were  moose-hides  stretched 
and  drying  about  them.  There  were  no  cart-paths,  nor 
tracks  of  horses,  but  foot-paths  ;  very  little  land  culti- 
vated, but  an  abundance  of  weeds,  indigenous  and  natu- 
ralized ;  more  introduced  weeds  than  useful  vegetables, 
as  the  Indian  is  said  to  cultivate  the  vices  rather  than  the 
virtues  of  the  white  man.  Yet  this  village  was  cleaner 


150  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

than  I  expected,  far  cleaner  than  such  Irish  villages  as  I 
have  seen.  The  children  were  not  particularly  ragged 
nor  dirty.  The  little  boys  met  us  with  bow  in  hand  and 
arrow  on  string,  and  cried,  "  Put  up  a  cent."  Verily,  the 
Indian  has  but  a  feeble  hold  on  his  bow  now ;  but  the 
curiosity  of  the  white  man  is  insatiable,  and  from  the  first 
he  has  been  eager  to  witness  this  forest  accomplishment. 
That  elastic  piece  of  wood  with  its  feathered  dart,  so  sure 
to  be  unstrung  by  contact  with  civilization,  will  serve  for 
the  type,  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  savage.  Alas  for  the 
Hunter  Race !  the  white  man  has  driven  off  their  game, 
and  substituted  a  cent  in  its  place.  I  saw  an  Indian 
woman  washing  at  the  water's  edge.  She  stood  on  a 
rock,  and,  after  dipping  the  clothes  in  the  stream,  laid 
them  on  the  rock,  and  beat  them  with  a  short  club.  In 
the  graveyard,  which  was  crowded  with  graves,  and 
overrun  with  weeds,  I  noticed  an  inscription  in  Indian, 
painted  on  a  wooden  grave-board.  There  was  a  large 
wooden  cross  on  the  island. 

Since  my  companion  knew  him,  we  called  on  Gov- 
ernor Neptune,  who  lived  in  a  little  "  ten-footer,"  one  of 
the  humblest  of  them  all.  Personalities  are  allowable  in 
speaking  of  public  men,  therefore  I  will  give  the  particu- 
lars of  our  visit.  He  was  a-bed.  When  we  entered  the 
room,  which  was  one  half  of  the  house,  he  was  sitting  on 
the  side  of  the  bed.  There  was  a  clock  hanging  in  one 
corner.  He  had  on  a  black  frock-coat,  and  black  pants," 
much  worn,  white  cotton  shirt,  socks,  a  red  silk  handker- 
chief about  his  neck,  and  a  straw  hat.  His  black  hair 
was  only  slightly  grayed.  He  had  very  broad  cheeks, 
and  his  features  were  decidedly  and  refreshingly  different 
from  those  of  any  of  the  upstart  Native  American  party 
whom  I  have  seen.  He  was  no  darker  than  many  old 


CHESUNCOOK.  151 

white  men.  He  told  me  that  he  was  eighty-nine ;  but 
he  was  going  a-moose-hunting  that  fall,  as  he  had  been 
the  previous  one.  Probably  his  companions  did  the 
hunting.  We  saw  various  squaws  dodging  about.  One 
sat  on  the  bed  by  his  side  and  helped  him  out  with  his 
stories.  They  were  remarkably  corpulent,  with  smooth, 
round  faces,  apparently  full  of  good-humor.  Certainly 
our  much-abused  climate  had  not  dried  up  their  adipose 
substance.  While  we  were  there,  —  for  we  stayed  a 
good  while,  —  one  went  over  to  Oldtown,  returned  and 
cut  out  a  dress,  which  she  had  bought,  on  another  bed  in 
the  room.  The  Governor  said,  that  "  he  could  remem- 
ber when  the  moose  were  much  larger ;  that  they  did  not 
use  to  be  in  the  woods,  but  came  out  of  the  water,  as  all 
deer  did.  Moose  was  whale  once.  Away  down  Mem- 
mack  way,  a  whale  came  ashore  in  a  shallow  bay.  Sea 
went  out  and  left  him,  and  he  came  up  on  land  a  moose. 
What  made  them  know  he  was  a  whale  was,  that  at  first, 
before  he  began  to  run  in  bushes,  he  had  no  bowels  in- 
side, but " and  then  the  squaw  who  sat  on  the  bed 

by  his  side,  as  the  Governor's  aid,  and  had  been  putting 
in  a  word  now  and  then  and  confirming  the  story,  asked 
me  what  we  called  that  soft  thing  we  find  along  the  sea- 
shore. "  Jelly-fish,"  I  suggested.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  no 
bowels,  but  jelly-fish." 

There  may  be  some  truth  in  what  he  said  about  the 
moose  growing  larger  formerly  ;  for  the  quaint  John  Jos- 
selyn,  a  physician  who  spent  many  years  in  this  very  dis- 
trict of  Maine  in  the  seventeenth  century,  says,  that  the 
tips  of  their  horns  "  are  sometimes  found  to  be  two  fath- 
oms asunder,"  —  and  he  is  particular  to  tell  us  that  a 
fathom  is  six  feet,  —  "  and  [they  are]  in  height,  from  the 
toe  of  the  fore  foot  to  the  pitch  of  the  shoulder,  twelve 


152  THE  MAINE  WOODS.         £>O 

foot,  both  which  hath  been  taken  by  some  of  my  scep- 
tique  readers  to  be  monstrous  lies  "  ;  and  he  adds, 
"There  are  certain  transcendentia  in  every  creature,  which 
are  the  indelible  character  of  God,  and  which  discover 
God."  This  is  a  greater  dilemma  to  be  caught  in  than 
is  presented  by  the  cranium  of  the  young  Bechuana  ox, 
apparently  another  of  the  transcendentia,  in  the  collec- 
tion of  Thomas  Steel,  Upper  Brook  Street,  London, 
whose  "  entire  length  of  horn,  from  tip  to  tip,  along  the 
curve,  is.  13  ft.  5  in.  ;  distance  (straight)  between  the 
tips  of  the  horns,  8  ft.  84-  in."  However,  the  size  both  of 
the  moose  and  the  cougar,  as  I  have  found,  is  generally 
rather  underrated  than  overrated,  and  I  should  be  in- 
clined to  add  to  the  popular  estimate  a  part  of  what  I 
subtracted  from  Josselyn's. 

But  we  talked  mostly  with  the  Governor's  son-in-law, 
a  very  sensible  Indian  ;  and  the  Governor,  being  so  old 
and  deaf,  permitted  himself  to  be  ignored,  while  we 
asked  questions  about  him.  The  former  said,  that  there 
were  two  political  parties  among  them,  —  one  in  favor  of 
schools,  and  the  other  opposed  to  them,  or  rather  they 
did  not  wish  to  resist  the  priest,  who  was  opposed  to 
them.  The  first  had  just  prevailed  at  the  election  and 
sent  their  man  to  the  legislature.  Neptune  and  Aitteon 
and  he  himself  were  in  favor  of  schools.  He  said,  "  If 
Indians  got  learning,  they  would  keep  their  money." 
When  we  asked  where  Joe's  father,  Aitteon,  was,  he 
knew  that  he  must  be  at  Lincoln,  though  he  was  about 
going  a-moose-hunting,  for  a  messenger  had  just  gone  to 
him  there  to  get  his  signature  to  some  papers.  I  asked 
Neptune  if  they  had  "any  of  the  old  breed  of  dogs  yet. 
He  answered,  "  Yes."  "  But  that,"  said  I,  pointing  to 
one  that  had  just  come  in,  "  is  a  Yankee  dog."  He  as- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH. 


I  STARTED  on  my  third  excursion  to  the  Maine  woods 
Monday,  July  20th,  1857,  with  one  companion,  arriving 
at  Bangor  the  next  day  at  noon.  We  had  hardly  left 
the  steamer,  when  we  passed  Molly  Molasses  in  the 
street.  As  long  as  she  lives  the  Penobscots  may  be  con- 
sidered extant  as  a  tribe.  The  succeeding  morning,  a 
relative  of  mine,  who  is  well  acquainted  with  the  Penob- 
scot  Indians,  and  who  had  been  my  companion  in  my 
two  previous  excursions  into  the  Maine  woods,  took  me 
in  his  wagon  to  Oldtown,  to  assist  me  in  obtaining  an 
Indian  for  this  expedition.  We  were  ferried  across  to 
the  Indian  Island  in  a  batteau.  The  ferryman's  boy  had 
got  the  key  to  it,  but  the  father  who  was  a  blacksmith, 
after  a  little  hesitation,  cut  the  chain  with  a  cold-chisel 
on  the  rock.  He  told  me  that  the  Indians  were  nearly 
all  gone  to  the  seaboard  and  to  Massachusetts,  partly  on 
account  of  the  small-pox,  of  which  they  are  very  much 
afraid,  having  broken  out  in  Oldtown,  and  it  was  doubt- 
ful whether  we  should  find  a  suitable  one  at  home.  The 
old  chief  Neptune,  however,  was  there  still.  The  first 
man  we  saw  on  the  island  was  an  Indian  named  Joseph 
Polis,  whom  my  relative  had  known  from  a  boy,  and  now 
addressed  familiarly  as  "  Joe."  He  was  dressing  a  deer- 
skin in  his  yard.  The  skin  was  spread  over  a  slanting 


162  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

log,  and  he  was  scraping  it  with  a  stick,  held  by  both 
hands.  He  was  stoutly  built,  perhaps  a  little  above  the 
middle  height,  with  a  broad  face,  and,  as  others  said,  per- 
fect Indian  features  and  complexion.  His  house  was  a 
two-story  white  one  with  blinds,  the  best  looking  that  I 
noticed  there,  and  as  good  as  an  average  one  on  a  New 
England  village  street.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  garden 
and  fruit-trees,  single  cornstalks  standing  thinly  amid 
the  beans.  We  asked  him  if  he  knew  any  good  Indian 
who  would  like  to  go  into  the  woods  with  us,  that  is,  to 
the  Allegash  Lakes,  by  way  of  Moosehead,  and  return  by 
the  East  Branch  of  the  Penobscot,  or  vary  from  this  as 
we  pleased.  To  which  he  answered,  out  of  that  strange 
remoteness  in  which  the  Indian  ever  dwells  to  the  white 
man,  "Me  like  to  go  myself;  me  want  to  get  some 
moose";  and  kept  on  scraping  the  skin.  His  brother 
had  been  into  the  woods  with  my  relative  only  a  year  or 
two  before,  and  the  Indian  now  inquired  what  the  latter 
had  done  to  him,  that  he  did  not  come  back,  for  he  had 
not  seen  nor  heard  from  him  since. 

At  length  we  got  round  to  the  more  interesting  topic 
again.  The  ferryman  had  told  us  that  all  the  best 
Indians  were  gone  except  Polis,  who  was  one  of  the  aris- 
tocracy. He  to  be  sure  would  be  the  best  man  we  could 
have,  but  if  he  went  at  all  would  want  a  great  price  ;  so 
we  did  not  expect  to  get  him.  Polis  asked  at  first  two 
dollars  a  day,  but  agreed  to  go  for  a  dollar  and  a  half, 
and  fifty  cents  a  week 'for  his  canoe.  He  would  come  to 
Bangor  with  his  canoe  by  the  seven  o'clock  train  that 
evening,  —  we  might  depend  on  him.  We  thought  our- 
selves lucky  to  secure  the  services  of  this  man,  who  was 
known  to  be  particularly  steady  and  trustworthy. 

I  spent  the  afternoon  with  my  companion,  who  had 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  163 

remained  in  Bangor,  in  preparing  for  our  expedition, 
purchasing  provisions,  hard  bread,  pork,  coffee,  sugar, 
&c.,  and  some  India-rubber  clothing. 

We  had  at  first  thought  of  exploring  the  St.  John  from 
its  source  to  its  mouth,  or  else  to  go  up  the  Penobscot  by 
its  East  Branch  to  the  lakes  of  the  St.  John,  and  return 
by  way  of  Chesuncook  and  Moosehead*  We  had  finally 
inclined  to  the  last  route,  only  reversing  the  order  of  it, 
going  by  way  of  Moosehead,  and  returning  by  the  Penob- 
scot, otherwise  it  would  have  been  all  the  way  up  stream 
and  taken  twice  as  long. 

At  evening  the  Indian  arrived  in  the  cars,  and  I  led 
the  way  while  he  followed  me  three  quarters  of  a  mile  to 
my  friend's  house,  with  the  canoe  on  his  head.  I  did  not 
know  the  exact  route  myself,  but  steered  by  the  lay  of 
the  land,  as  I  do  in  Boston,  and  I  tried  to  enter  into  con- 
versation with  him,  but  as  he  was  puffing  under  the 
weight  of  his  canoe,  not  having  the  usual  apparatus  for 
carrying  it,  but,  above  all,  was  an  Indian,  I  might  as  well 
have  been  thumping  on  the  bottom  of  his  birch  the  while./ 
In  answer  to  the  various  observations  which  I  made  by 
way  of  breaking  the  ice,  he  only  grunted  vaguely  from 
beneath  his  canoe  once  or  twice,  so  that  I  knew  he  was 
there. 

Early  the  next  morning  (July  23d)  the  stage  called 
for  us,  the  Indian  having  breakfasted  with  us,  and  already 
placed  the  baggage  in  the  canoe  to  see  how  it  would  go. 
My  companion  and  I  had  each  a  large  knapsack  as  full 
as  it  would  hold,  and  we  had  two  large  India-rubber  bags 
which  held  our  provision  and  utensils.  As  for  the  In- 
dian, all  the  baggage  he  had,  beside  his  axe  and  gun,  was 
a  blanket,  which  he  brought  loose  in  his  hand.  However, 
he  had  laid  in  a  store  of  tobacco  and  a  new  pipe  for  the 


164  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

excursion.  The  canoe  was  securely  lashed  diagonally 
across  the  top  of  the  stage,  with  bits  of  carpet  tucked  un- 
der the  edge  to  prevent  its  chafing.  The  very  accommo- 
dating driver  appeared  as  much  accustomed  to  carrying 
canoes  in  this  way  as  bandboxes. 

At  the  Bangor  House  we  took  in  four  men  bound  on 
a  hunting  excursion,  one  of  the  men  going  as  cook. 
They  had  a  dog,  a  middling-sized  brindled  cur,  which 
ran  by  the  side  of  the  stage,  his  master  showing  his  head 
and  whistling  from  time  to  time ;  but  after  we  had  gone 
about  three  miles  the  dog  was  suddenly  missing,  and  two 
of  the  party  went  back  for  him,  while  the  stage,  which 
was  full  of  passengers,  waited.  I  suggested  that  he  had 
taken  the  back  track  for  the  Bangor  House.  At  length 
one  man  came  back,  while  the  other  kept  on.  This 
whole  party  of  hunters  declared  their  intention  to  stop 
till  the  dog  was  found  ;  but  the  very  obliging  driver  was 
ready  to  wait  a  spell  longer.  He  was  evidently  unwill- 
ing to  lose  so  many  passengers,  who  would  have  taken 
a  private  conveyance,  or  perhaps  the  other  line  of  stages, 
the  next  day.  Such  progress  did  we  make  with  a  jour- 
ney of  over  sixty  miles,  to  be  accomplished  that  day,  and 
a  rain-storm  just  setting  in.  We  discussed  the  subject  of 
dogs  and  their  instincts  till  it  was  threadbare,  while  we 
waited  there,  and  the  scenery  of  the  suburbs  of  Bangor 
is  still  distinctly  impressed  on  my  memory.  After  full 
half  an  hour  the  man  returned,  leading  the  dog  by  a 
rope.  He  had  overtaken  him  just  as  he  was  entering 
the  Bangor  House.  He  was  then  tied  on  the  top  of  the 
stage,  but  being  wet  and  cold,  several  times  in  the  course 
of  the  journey  he  jumped  off,  and  I  saw  him  dangling 
by  his  neck.  This  dog  was  depended  on  to  stop  bears 
with.  He  had  already  stopped  one  somewhere  in  New 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  165 

Hampshire,  and  I  can  testify  that  he  stopped  a  stage  in 
aine.  This  party  of  four  probably  paid  nothing  for 
the  dog's  ride,  nor  for  his  run,  while  our  party  of  three 
paid  two  dollars,  and  were  charged  four  for  the  light 
canoe  which  lay  still  on  the  top. 

It  soon  began  to  rain,  and  grew  more  and  more  stormy 
as  the  day  advanced.  This  was  the  third  time  that  I  had 
passed  over  this  route,  and  it  rained  steadily  each  time 
all  day.  We  accordingly  saw  but  little  of  the  country. 
The  stage  was  crowded  all  the  way,  and  I  attended  the 
more  to  my  fellow-travellers.  If  you  had  looked  inside 
this  coach  you  would  have  thought  that  we  were  prepared 
to  run  the  gauntlet  of  a  band  of  robbers,  for  there  were 
four  or  five  guns  on  the  front  seat,  the  Indian's  included, 
and  one  or  two  on  the  back  one,  each  man  holding  his 
darling  in  his  arms.  One  had  a  gun  which  carried  twelve 
to  a  pound.  It  appeared  that  this  party  of  hunters  was 
going  our  way,  but  much  farther  down  the  Allegash  and 
St.  John,  and  thence  up  some  other  stream,  and  across 
to  the  Pistigouche  and  the  Bay  of  Chaleur,  to  be  gone 
six  weeks.  They  had  canoes,  axes,  and  supplies  depos- 
ited some  distance  along  the  route.  They  carried  flour, 
and  were  to  have  new  bread  made  every  day.  Their 
leader  was  a  handsome  man  about  thirty  years  old,  of 
good  height,  but  not  apparently  robust,  of  gentlemanly 
address  and  faultless  toilet;  such  a  one  as  you  might 
expect  to  meet  on  Broadway.  In  fact,  in  the  popular 
sense  of  the  word,  he  was  the  most  "  gentlemanly  "  ap- 
pearing man  in  the  stage,  or  that  we  saw  on  the  road. 
He  had  a  fair  white  complexion,  as  if  he  had  always 
lived  in  the  shade,  and  an  intellectual  face,  and  with  his 
quiet  manners  might  have  passed  for  a  divinity  student 
who  had  seen  something  of  the  world.  I  was  surprised 


166  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

to  find,  on  talking  with  him  in  the  course  of  the  day's 
journey,  that  he  was  a  hunter  at  all,  —  for  his  gun  was 
not  much  exposed,  —  and  yet  more  to  find  that  he  was 
probably  the  chief  white  hunter  of  Maine,  and  was 
known  all  along  the  road.  He  had  also  hunted  in  some 
of  the  States  farther  south  and  west.  I  afterwards 
heard  him  spoken  of  as  one  who  could  endure  a  great 
deal  of  exposure  and  fatigue  without  showing  the  effect 
of  it ;  and  he  could  not  only  use  guns,  but  make  them, 
being  himself  a  gunsmith.  In  the  spring,  he  had  saved 
a  stage-driver  and  two  passengers  from  drowning  in  the 
backwater  of  the  Piscataquis  in  Foxcroft  on  this  road, 
having  swum  ashore  in  the  freezing  water  and  made  a 
raft  and  got  them  off,  —  though  the  horses  were  drowned, 
—  at  great  risk  to  himself,  while  the  only  other  man  who 
could  swim  withdrew  to  the  nearest  house  to  prevent 
freezing.  He  could  now  ride  over»this  road  for  nothing. 
He  knew  our  man,  and  remarked  that  we  had  a  good  In- 
dian there,  a  good  hunter ;  adding  that  he  was  said  to  be 
worth  $  6,000.  The  Indian  also  knew  him,  and  said  to 
me,  "  the  great  hunter." 

The  former  told  me  that  he  practised  a  kind  of  still 
hunting,  new  or  uncommon  in  those  parts,  that  the  cari- 
bou, for  instance,  fed  round  and  round  the  same  meadow, 
returning  on  the  same  path,  and  he  lay  in  wait  for  them. 

The  Indian  sat  on  the  front  seat,  saying  nothing  to 
anybody,  with  a  stolid  expression  of  face,  as  if  barely 
awake  to  what  was  going  on.  Again  I  was  struck  by 
the  peculiar  vagueness  of  his  replies  when  addressed  in 
the  stage,  or  at  the  taverns.  He  really  never  said  any- 
thing on  such  occasions.  He  was  merely  stirred  up,  like 
a  wild  beast,  and  passively  muttered  some  insignificant 
response.  His  answer,  in  such  cases,  was  never  the  con- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BEANCH.     167 

sequence  of  a  positive  mental  energy,  but  vague  as  a 
pun0  of  smoke,  suggesting  no  responsibility,  and  if  you 
considered  it,  you  would  find  that  you  had  got  nothing 
out  of  him.  This  was  instead  of  the  conventional  palaver 
and  smartness  of  the  white  man,  and  equally  profitable. 
Most  get  no  more  than  this  out  of  the  Indian,  and  pro- 
nounce him  stolid  accordingly.  I  was  surprised  to  see 
what  a  foolish  and  impertinent  style  a  Maine  man,  a 
passenger,  used  in  addressing  him,  as  if  he  were  a 
child,  which  only  made  his  eyes  glisten  a  little.  A  tipsy 
Canadian  asked  him  at  a  tavern,  in  a  drawling  tone,  if 
he  smoked,  to  which  he  answered  with  an  indefinite 
"  yes."  "  Won't  you  lend  me  your  pipe  a  little  while  ?  " 
asked  the  other.  He  replied,  looking  straight  by  the 
man's  head,  with  a  face  singularly  vacant  to  all  neighbor- 
ing interests,  "  Me  got  no  pipe  " ;  yet  I  had  seen  him  put 
a  new  one,  with  a  supply  of  tobacco,  into  his  pocket  that 
morning. 

Our  little  canoe,  so  neat  and  strong,  drew  a  favora- 
ble criticism  from  all  the  wiseacres  among  the  tavern 
loungers  along  the  road.  By  the  roadside,  close  to  the 
wheels,  I  noticed  a  splendid  great  purple-fringed  orchis 
with  a  spike  as  big  as  an  epilobium,  which  I  would  fain 
have  stopped  the  stage  to  pluck,  but  as  this  had  never 
been  known  to  stop  a  bear,  like  the  cur  on  the  stage,  the 
driver  would  probably  have  thought  it  a  waste  of  time. 

When  we  reached  the  lake,  about  half  past  eight  in 
the  evening,  it  was  still  steadily  raining,  and  harder  than 
before ;  and,  in  that  fresh,  cool  atmosphere,  the  hylodes 
were  peeping  and  the  toads  singing  about  the  lake  uni- 
versally, as  in  the  spring  with  us.  It  was  as  if  the  sea- 
son had  revolved  backward  two  or  three  months,  or  I 
had  arrived  at  the  abode  of  perpetual  spring. 


168  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

We  had  expected  to  go  upon  the  lake  at  once,  and 
after  paddling  up  two  or  three  miles,  to  camp  on  one  of 
its  islands ;  but  on  account  of  the  steady  and  increasing 
rain,  we  decided  to  go  to  one  of  the  taverns  for  the  night, 
though,  for  my  own  part,  I  should  have  preferred  to 
camp  out. 

About  four  o'clock  the  next  morning,  (July  24th,) 
though  it  was  quite  cloudy,  accompanied  by  the  landlord 
to  the  water's  edge,  in  the  twilight,  we  launched  our  canoe 
from  a  rock  on  the  Moosehead  Lake.  When  I  was 
there  four  years  before  we  had  a  rather  small  canoe  for 
three  persons,  and  I  had  thought  that  this  time  I  would 
get  a  larger  one,  but  the  present  one  was  even  smaller 
than  that.  It  was  18 J  feet  long  by  2  feet  6£  inches 
wide  in  the  middle,  and  one  foot  deep  within,  as  I  found 
by  measurement,  and  I  judged  that  it  would  weigh  not 
far  from  eighty  pounds.  The  Indian  had  recently  made 
it  himself,  and  its  smallness  was  partly  compensated  for 
by  its  newness,  as  well  as  stanchness  and  solidity,  it 
being  made  of  very  thick  bark  and  ribs.  Our  baggage 
weighed  about  166  pounds,  so  that  the  canoe  carried 
about  600  pounds  in  all,  or  the  weight  of  four  men.  The 
principal  part  of  the  baggage  was,  as  usual,  placed  in  the 
middle  of  the  broadest  part,  while  we  stowed  ourselves 
in  the  chinks  and  crannies  that  were  left  before  and 
behind  it,  where  there  was  no  room  to  extend  our  legs, 
the  loose  articles  being  tucked  into  the  ends.  The  canoe 
was  thus  as  closely  packed  as  a  market-basket,  and  might 
possibly  have  been  upset  without  spilling  any  of  its  con- 
tents. The  Indian  sat  on  a  cross-bar  in  the  stern,  but  we 
flat  on  the  bottom,  with  a  splint  or  chip  behind  our  backs, 
to  protect  them  from  the  cross-bar,  and  one  of  us  commonly 
paddled  with  the  Indian.  He  foresaw  that  we  should 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  169 

not  want  a  pole  till  we  reached  the  Umbazookskus  River, 
it  being  either  dead  water  or  down  stream  so  far,  and  he 
was  prepared  to  make  a  sail  of  his  blanket  in  the  bows, 
if  the  wind  should  be  fair ;  but  we  never  used  it. 

It  had  rained  more  or  'less  the  four  previous  days,  so 
that  we  thought  we  might  count  on  some  fair  weather. 
The  wind  was  at  first  southwesterly. 

Paddling  along  the  eastern  side  of  the  lake  in  the  still 
of  the  morning,  we  soon  saw  a  few  sheldrakes,  which 
the1  Indian  called  Shecorways,  and  some  peetweets  Nar- 
amekechus,  on  the  rocky  shore ;  we  also  saw  and  heard 
loons,  medawisla,  which  he  said  was  a  sign  of  wind.  It 
was  inspiriting  to  hear  the  regular  dip  of  the  paddles, 
as  if  they  were  our  fins  or  flippers,  and  to  realize  that 
we  were  at  length  fairly  embarked.  We  who  had  felt 
strangely  as  stage-passengers  and  tavern-lodgers  were 
suddenly  naturalized  there  and  presented  with  the  free- 
dom of  the  lakes  and  the  woods.  Having  passed  the 
small  rocky  isles  within  two  or  three  miles  of  the  foot 
of  the  lake,  we  -had  a  short  consultation  respecting  our 
course,  and  inclined  to  the  western  shore  for  the  sake  of 
its  lee ;  for  otherwise,  if  the  wind  should  rise,  it  would  be 
impossible  for  us  to  reach  Mount  Kineo,  which  is  about 
midway  up  the  lake  on  the  east  side,  but  at  its  narrowest 
part,  where  probably  we  could  recross  if  we  took  the 
western  side.  The  wind  is  the  chief  obstacle  to  crossing 
the  lakes,  especially"  in  so  small  a  canoe.  The  Indian 
remarked  several  times  that  he  did  not  like  to  cross  the 
lakes  "in  littlum  canoe,"  but  nevertheless,  "just  as  we 
say,  it  made  no  odds  to  him."  He  sometimes  took  a 
straight  course  up  the  middle  of  the  lake  between  Sugar 
and  Deer  Islands,  when  there  was  no  wind. 

Measured  on  the   map,  Moosehead   Lake  is  twelve 


170  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

miles  wide  at  the  widest  place,  and  thirty  miles  long  in 
a  direct  line,  but  longer  as  it  lies.  The  captain  of  the 
steamer  called  it  thirty-eight  miles  as  he  steered.  We 
should  probably  go  about  forty.  The  Indian  said  that 
it  was  called  "  Mspame,  because  large  water."  Squaw 
Mountain  rose  darkly  on  our  left,  near  the  outlet  of  the 
Kennebec,  and  what  the  Indian  called  Spencer  Bay  Moun- 
tain, on  the  east,  and  already  we  saw  Mount  Kineo  before 
us  in  the  north. 

Paddling  near  the  shore,  we  frequently  heard  the 
pe-pe  of  the  olive-sided  fly-catcher,  also  the  wood-pewee, 
and  the  kingfisher,  thus  early  in  the  morning.  The 
Indian  reminding  us  that  he  could  not  work  without 
eating,  we  stopped  to  breakfast  on  the  main  shore,  south- 
west of  Deer  Island,  at  a  spot  where  the  Mimulus 
ringens  grew  abundantly.  We  took  out  our  bags,  and 
the  Indian  made  a  fire  under  a  very  large  bleached  log, 
using  white-pine  bark  from  a  stump,  though  he  said  that 
hemlock  was  better,  and  kindling  with  canoe-birch  bark. 
Our  table  was  a  large  piece  of  freshly  peeled  birch-bark, 
laid  wrong-side-up,  and  our  breakfast  consisted  of  hard 
bread,  fried  pork,  and  strong  coffee,  well  sweetened,  in 
which  we  did  not  miss  the  milk. 

While  we  were  getting  breakfast  a  brood  of  twelve 
black  dippers,  half  grown,  came  paddling  by  within  three 
or  four  rods,  not  at  all  alarmed ;  and  they  loitered  about 
as  long  as  we  stayed,  now  huddled  close  together,  within 
a  circle  of  eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  now  moving  off 
in  a  long  line,  very  cunningly.  Yet  they  bore  a  certain 
proportion  to  the  great  Moosehead  Lake  on  whose  bosom 
they  floated,  and  I  felt  as  if  they  were  under  its  protection. 

Looking  northward  from  this  place  it  appeared  as  if 
we  were  entering  a  large  bay,  and  we  did  not  know 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  171 

whether  we  should  be  obliged  to  diverge  from  our  course 
and  keep  outside  a  point  which  we  saw,  or  should  find  a 
passage  between  this  and  the  mainland.  I  consulted  my 
map  and  used  my  glass,  and  the  Indian  did  the  same, 
but  we  could  not  find  our  place  exactly  on  the  map,  nor 
could  we  detect  any  break  in  the  shore.  When  I  asked 
the  Indian  the  way,  he  answered  "  I  don't  know,"  which 
I  thought  remarkable,  since  he  had  said  that  he  was  fa- 
miliar with  the  lake ;  but  it  appeared  that  he  had  never 
been  up  this  side.  It  was  misty  dog-day  weather,  and  we 
had  already  penetrated  a  smaller  bay  of  the  same  kind, 
and  knocked  the  bottom  out  of  it,  though  we  had  been 
obliged  to  pass  over  a  small  bar,  between  an  island  and 
the  shore,  where  there  was  but  just  breadth  and  depth 
enough  to  float  the  canoe,  and  the  Indian  had  observed, 
"Very  easy  makum  bridge  here,"  but  now  it  seemed 
that,  if  we  held  on,  we  should  be  fairly  embayed.  Pres- 
ently, however,  though  we  had  not  stirred,  the  mist  lifted 
somewhat,  andirevealed  a  break  in  the  shore  northward, 
showing  that  the  point  was  a  portion  of  Deer  Island, 
and  that  our  course  lay  westward  of  it.  Where  it  had 
seemed  a  continuous  shore  even  through  a  glass,  one 
portion  was  now  seen  by  the  naked  eye  to  be  much  more 
distant  than  the  other  which  overlapped  it,  merely  by 
the  greater  thickness  of  the  mist  which  still  rested  on  it, 
while  the  nearer  or  island  portion  was  comparatively 
bare  and  green.  "  The  line  of  separation  was  very  dis- 
tinct, and  the  Indian  immediately  remarked,  "I  guess 
you  and  I  go  there, — I  guess  there  's  room  for  my  canoe 
there."  This  was  his  common  expression  instead  of  say- 
ing we.  He  never  addressed  us  by  our  names,  though 
curious  to  know  how  they  were  spelled  and  what  they 
meant,  while  we  called  him  Polis.  He  had  already 


172  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

guessed  very  accurately  at  our  ages,  and  said  that  he 
was  forty-eight. 

After  breakfast  I  emptied  the  melted  pork  that  was 
left  into  the  lake,  making  what  sailors  call  a  "  slick,"  and 
watching  to  see  how  much  it  spread  over  and  smoothed 
the  agitated  surface.  The  Indian  looked  at  it  a  moment 
and  said,  "  That  make  hard  paddlum  thro' ;  hold  'em  ca- 
noe. So  say  old  times." 

We  hastily  reloaded,  putting  the  dishes  loose  in  the 
bows,  that  they  might  be  at  hand  when  wanted,  and  set 
out  again.  The  western  shore,  near  which  we  paddled 
along,  rose  gently  to  a  considerable  height,  and  was  ev- 
erywhere densely  covered  with  the  forest,  in  which  was 
a  large  proportion  of  hard  wood  to  enliven  and  relieve 
the  fir  and  spruce. 

The  Indian  said  that  the  usnea  lichen  which  we  saw 
hanging  from  the  trees  was  called  chorchorque.  We 
asked  him  the  names  of  several  small  birds  which  we 
heard  this  morning.  The  wood-thrush,  nhich  was  quite 
common,  and  whose  note  he  imitated,  he  said  was  called 
Adelungquamooktum  ;  but  sometimes  he  could  not  tell 
the  name  of  some  small  bird  which  I  heard  and  knew, 
but  he  said,  "  I  tell  all  the  birds  about  here,  —  this  coun- 
try ;  can't  tell  littlum  noise,  but  I  see  'em,  then  I  can  tell." 

I  observed  that  I  should  like  to  go  to  school  to  him  to 
learn  his  language,  living  on  the  Indian  island  the 
while ;  could  not  that  be  done  ?  "  0,  yer,"  he  replied, 
"  good  many  do  so."  I  asked  how  long  he  thought  it 
would  take.  He  said  one  week.  I  told  him  that  in  this 
voyage  I  would  tell  him  all  I  knew,  and  he  should  tell 
me  all  he  knew,  to  which  he  readily  agreed. 

The  birds  sang  quite  as  in  our  woods,  —  the  red-eye, 
red-start,  veery,  wood-pewee,  etc.,  but  we  saw  no  blue- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  173 

birds  in  all  our  journey,  and  several  told  me  in  Bangor 
that  they  had  not  the  bluebird  there.  Mt.  Kineo,  which 
was  generally  visible,  though  occasionally  concealed  by 
islands  or  the  mainland  in  front,  had  a  level  bar  of  cloud 
concealing  its  summit,  and  all  the  mountain-tops  about 
the  lake  were  cut  off  at  the  same  height.  Ducks  of  va- 
rious kinds  —  sheldrake,  summer  ducks,  etc.  —  were  quite 
commpn,  and  ran  over  the  water  before  us  as  fast  as  a 
horse  trots.  Thus  they  were  soon  out  of  sight. 

The  Indian  asked  the  meaning  of  realility,  as  near 
as  I  could  make  out  the  word,  which  he  said  one  of  us 
had  used ;  also  of  "  interrent"  that  is  intelligent.  I  ob- 
served that  he  could  rarely  sound  the  letter  r,  but  used 
1,  as  also  r  for  1  sometimes ;  as  load  for  road,  pickelel 
for  pickerel,  Soogle  Island  for  Sugar  Island,  lock  for- 
rock,  etc.  Yet  he  trilled  the  r  pretty  well  after  me. 

He  generally  added  the  syllable  um  to  his  words  when 
he  could, —  as  padlwm,  etc.  I  have  once  heard  a  Chippe- 
wa  lecture,  who  made  his  audience  laugh  unintentionally 
by  putting  ne  after  the  word  too,  which  word  he~~"brought 
in  continually  and  unnecessarily,  accenting  and  prolong- 
ing this  sound  into  m  ar  sonorously  as  if  it  were  neces- 
sary to  bring  in  so  much  of  his  vernacular  as  a  relief  to 
his  organs,  a  compensation  for  twisting  his  jaws  about, 
and  putting  his  tongue  into  every  corner  of  his  mouth, 
as  he  complained  that  he  was  obliged  to  do  when  he 
spoke  English.  There  was  so  much  of  the  Indian  ac- 
cent resounding  through  his  English,  so  much  of  the 
"  bow-arrow  tang "  as  my  neighbor  calls  it,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  that  word  seemed  to  him  the  best  pronounced. 
It  was  a  wild  and  refreshing  sound,  like  that  of  the 
wind  among  the  pines,  or  the  booming  of  the  surf  on  the 
shore. 


174  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

I  asked  him  the  meaning  of  the  word  Musketicook,  the 
Indian  name  of  Concord  River.  He  pronounced  it  Mus- 
keeticook,  emphasizing  the  second  syllable  with  a  peculiar 
guttural  sound,  and  said  that  it  meant  "  Dead-water," 
which  it  is,  and  in  this  definition  he  agreed  exactly  with 
the  St.  Francis  Indian  with  whom  I  talked  in  1853. 

On  a  point  on  the  mainland  some  miles  southwest  of 
Sand-bar  Island,  where  we  landed  to  stretch  our  legs  and 
look  at  the  vegetation,  going  inland  a  few  steps,  I  discov- 
ered a  fire  still  glowing  beneath  its  ashes,  where  some- 
body had  breakfasted,  and  a  bed  of  twigs  prepared  for 
the  following  night.  So  I  knew  not  only  that  they  had 
just  left,  but  that  they  designed  to  return,  and  by  the 
breadth  of  the  bed  that  there  was  more  than  one  in  the 
•party.  You  might  have  gone  within  six  feet  of  these 
signs  without  seeing  them.  There  grew  the  beaked  ha- 
zel, the  only  hazel  which  I  saw  on  this  journey,  the  Di- 
ervitta,  rue  seven  feet  high,  which  was  very  abundant  on 
all  the  lake  and  river  shores,  and  Cornus  stolonifera,  or 
red  osier,  whose  bark,  the  Indian  said,  was  good  to  smoke, 
and  was  called  maquoxigill,  "  tobacco  before  white  people 
came  to  this  country,  Indian  tobacco." 

The  Indian  was  always  very  careful  in  approaching 
the  shore,  lest  he  should  injure  his  canoe  on  the  rocks, 
letting  it  swing  round  slowly  side  wise,  and  was  still 
more  particular  that  we  should  not  step  into  it  on  shore, 
nor  till  it  floated  free,  and  then  should  step  gently  lest 
we  should  open  its  seams,  or  make  a  hole  in  the  bottom. 
He  said  that  he  would  tell  us  when  to  jump. 

Soon  after  leaving  this  point  we  passed  the  mouth 
of  the  Kennebec,  and  heard  and  saw  the  falls  at  the 
dam  there,  for  even  Moosehead  Lake  is  dammed.  Af- 
ter passing  Deer  Island,  we  saw  the  little  steamer  from 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  .175 

Greenville,  far  east  in  the  middle  of  the  lake,  she  ap- 
peared nearly  stationary.  Sometimes  we  could  hardly 
tell  her  from  an  island  which  had  a  few  trees  on  it. 
Here  we  were  exposed  to  the  wind  from  over  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  lake,  and  ran  a  little  risk  of  being 
swamped.  While  I  had  my  eye  fixed  on  the  spot  where 
a  large  fis-h  had  leaped,  we  took  in  a  gallon  or  two  of 
water,  which  filled  my  lap;  but  we  soon  reached  the 
shore  and  took  the  canoe  over  the  bar,  at  Sand-bar 
Island,  a  few  feet  wide  only,  and  so  saved  a  considerable 
distance.  One  landed  first  at  a  more  sheltered  place, 
and  walking  round  caught  the  canoe  by  the  prow,  to 
prevent  it  being  injured  against  the  shore. 

Again  we  crossed  a  broad  bay  opposite  the  mouth 
of  Moose  River,  before  reaching  the  narrow  strait  at 
Mount  Kineo,  made  what  the  voyageurs  call  a  traverse, 
and  found  the  water  quite  rough.  A  very  little  wind 
on  these  broad  lakes  raises  a  sea  which  will  swamp  a 
canoe.  Looking  off  from  a  lee  shore,  the  surface  may 
appear  to  be  very  little  agitated,  almost  smooth,  a  mile 
distant,  or  if  you  see  a  few  white  crests  they  appear 
nearly  level  with  the  rest  of  the  lake;  but  when  you 
get  out  so  far,  you  may  find  quite  a  sea  running,  and 
erelong,  before  you  think  of  it,  a  wave  will  gently 
creep  up  the  side  of  the  canoe  and  fill  your  lap,  like  a 
monster  deliberately  covering  you  with  its  slime  before 
it  swallows  you,  or  it  will  strike  the  canoe  violently  and 
break  into  it.  The  same  thing  may  happen  when  the 
wind  rises  suddenly,  though  it  were  perfectly  calm  ancj. 
smooth  there  a  few  minutes  before ;  so  that  nothing 
can  save  you,  unless  you  can  swim  ashore,  for  it  is 
impossible  to  get  into  a  canoe  again  when  it  is  upset. 
Since  you  sit  flat  on  the  bottom,  though  the  danger 


176  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

should  not  be  imminent,  a  little  water  is  a  great  incon- 
venience, not  to  mention  the  wetting  of  your  provisions. 
We  rarely  crossed  even  a  bay  directly,  from  point  to 
point,  when  there  was  wind,  but  made  a  slight  curve 
corresponding  somewhat  to  the  shore,  that  we  might 
the  sooner  reach  it  if  the  wind  increased. 

When  the  wind  is  aft,  and  not  too  strong,  the  Indian 
makes  a  spritsail  of  his  blanket.  He  thus  easily  skims 
over  the  whole  length  of  this  lake  in  a  day. 
•  The  Indian  paddled  on  one  side,  and  one  of  us  on 
the  other,  to  keep  the  canoe  steady,  and  when  he  wanted 
to  change  hands  he  would  say  "  t'  other  side."  He  as- 
serted, in  answer  to  our  questions,  that  he  had  never 
upset  a  canoe  himself,  though  he  may  have  been  upset 
by  others. 

Think  of  our  little  egg-shell  of  a  canoe  tossing  across 
that  great  lake,  a  mere  black  speck  to  the  eagle  soaring 
above  it. 

My  companion  trailed  for  trout  as  we  paddled  along, 
but  the  Indian  warning  him  that  a  big  fish  might  upset 
us,  for  there  are  some  very  large  ones  there,  he  agreed 
to  pass  the  line  quickly  to  him  in  the  stern  if  he  had 
a  bite.  Beside  trout,  I  heard  of  cusk,  white-fish,  &c., 
as  found  in  this  lake. 

While  we  were  crossing  this  bay,  where  Mount  Kineo 
rose  dark  before  us,  within  two  or  three  miles,  the  Indian 
repeated  the  tradition  respecting  this  mountain's  having 
anciently  been  a  cow  moose,  —  how  a  mighty  Indian 
hunter,  whose  name  I  forget,  succeeding  in  killing  this 
queen  of  the  moose  tribe  with  great  difficulty,  while 
her  calf  was  killed  somewhere  among  the  islands  in 
Penobscot  Bay,  and,  to  his  eyes,  this  mountain  had 
still  the  form  of  the  moose  in  a  reclining  posture,  its 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.        ,    177 

precipitous  side  presenting  the  outline  of  her  head. 
He  told  this  at  some  length,  though  it  did  not  amount 
to  much,  and  with  apparent  good  faith,  and  asked  us 
how  we  supposed  the  hunter  could  have  killed  such  a 
mighty  moose  as  that,  —  how  we  could,  do  it.  Where- 
upon a  man-of-war  to  fire  broadsides  into  her  was 
suggested,  etc.  An  Indian  tells  such  a  story  as  if  he 
thought  it  deserved  to  have  a  good  deal  said  about  it, 
only  he  has  not  got  it  to  say,  and  so  he  makes  up  for 
the  deficiency  by  a  drawling  tone,  long-windedness,  and 
a  dumb  wonder  which  he  hopes  will  be  contagious. 

We  approached  the  land  again  through  pretty  rough 
water,  and  then  steered  directly  across  the  lake,  at  its 
narrowest  part,  to  the  eastern  side,  and  were  soon  partly 
under  the  lee  of  the  mountain,  about  a  mile  north  of 
the  Kineo  House,  having  paddled  about  twenty  miles. 
It  was  now  about  noon. 

We  designed  to  stop  there  that  afternoon  and  night, 
and  spent  half  an  hour  looking  along  the  shore  north- 
ward for  a  suitable  place  to  camp.  We  took  out  all  our 
baggage  at  one  place  in  vain,  it  being  too  rocky  and 
uneven,  and  while  engaged  in  this  search  we  made  our 
first  acquaintance  with  the  moose-fly.  At  length,  half  a 
mile  farther  north,  by  going  half  a  dozen  rods  into  the 
dense  spruce  and  fir  wood  on  the  side  of  the  mountain, 
almost  as  dark  as  a  cellar,  we  found  a  place  sufficiently 
clear  and  level  to  lie  down  on,  after  cutting  away  a  few 
bushes.  We  required  a  space  only  seven  feet  by  six  for 
our  bed,  the  fire  being  four  or  five  feet  in  front,  though 
it  made  no  odds  how  rough  the  hearth  was ;  but  it  was 
not  always  easy  to  find  this  in  those  woods.  The  Indian 
first  cleared  a  path  to  it  from  the  shore  with  his  axe,  and 
we  then  carried  up  all  our  baggage,  pitched  our  tent,  and 


178  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

made  our  bed,  in  order  to  be  ready  for  foul  weather, 
which  then  threatened  us,  and  for  the  night.  He  gath- 
ered a  large  armful  of  fir  twigs,  breaking  them  off,  which 
he  said  were  the  best  for  our  bed,  partly,  I  thought, 
because  they  were  the  largest  and  could  be  most  rapidly 
collected.  It  had  been  raining  more  or  less  for  four  or 
five  days,  and  the  wood  was  even  damper  than  usual,  but 
he  got  dry  bark  for  the  fire  from  the  under-side  of  a  dead 
leaning  hemlock,  which,  he  said,  he  could  always  do. 

This  noon  his  mind  was  occupied  with  a  law  question, 
and  I  referred  him  to  my  companion,  who  was  a  lawyer. 
It  appeared  that  he  had  been  buying  land  lately,  (I  think 
it  was  a  hundred  acres,)  but  there  was  probably  an 
incumbrance  to  it,  somebody  else  claiming  to  have  bought 
some  grass  on  it  for  this  year.  He  wished  to  know  to 
whom  the  grass  belonged,  and  was  told  that  if  the  other 
man  could  prove  that  he  bought  the  grass  before  he, 
Polis,  bought  the  land,  the  former  could  take  it,  whether 
the  latter  knew  it  or  not.  To  which  he  only  answered, 
"  Strange ! "  He  went  over  this  several  times,  fairly  sat 
down  to  it,  with  his  back  to  a  tree,  as  if  he  meant  to  con- 
fine us  to  this  topic  henceforth  ;  but  as  he  made  no  head- 
way, only  reached  the  jumping-off  place  of  his  wonder 
at  white  men's  institutions  after  each  explanation,  we  let 
the  subject  die. 

He  said  that  he  had  fifty  acres  of  grass,  potatoes,  &c., 
somewhere  above  Oldtown,  beside  some  about  his  house ; 
that  he  hired  a  good  deal  of  his  work,  hoeing,  &c.,  and 
preferred  white  men  to  Indians,  because  "they  keep 
steady,  and  know  how." 

After  dinner  we  returned  southward  along  the  shore, 
in  the  canoe,  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of  climbing  over 
the  rocks  and  fallen  trees,  and  began  to  ascend  the  moun- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     179 

tain  along  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  But  a  smart  shower 
coming  up  just  then,  the  Indian  crept  under  his  canoe, 
while  we,  being  protected  by  our  rubber  coats,  proceeded 
to  botanize.  So  we  sent  him  back  to  the  camp  for  shelter, 
agreeing  that  he  should  come  there  for  us  with  his  canoe 
toward  night.  It  had  rained  a  little  in  the  forenoon,  and 
we  trusted  that  this  would  be  the  clearing-up  shower, 
which  it  proved  ;  but  our  feet  and  •  legs  were  thoroughly 
wet  by  the  bushes.  The  clouds  breaking  away  a  little, 
we  had  a  glorious  wild  view,  as  we  ascended,  of  the 
broad  lake  with  its  fluctuating  surface  and  numerous 
forest-clad  islands,  extending  beyond  our  sight  both  north 
and  south,  and  the  boundless  forest  undulating  away  from 
its  shores  on  every  side,  as  densely  packed  as  a  rye-field, 
and  enveloping  nameless  mountains  in  succession;  but 
above  all,  looking  westward  over  a  large  island  was 
visible  a  very  distant  part  of  the  lake,  though  we  did  not 
then  suspect  it  to  be  Moosehead,  —  at  first  a  mere  broken 
white  line  seen  through  the  tops  of  the  island  trees,  like 
hay-caps,  but  spreading  to  a  lake  when  we  got  higher. 
Beyond  this  we  saw  what  appears  to  be  called  Bald 
Mountain  on  the  map,  some  twenty-five  miles  distant, 
near  the  sources  of  the  Penobscot.  It  was  a  perfect  lake 
of  the  woods.  But  this  was  only  a  transient  gleam,  for 
the  rain  was  not  quite  over. 

Looking  southward,  the  heavens  were  completely  over- 
cast, the  mountains  Capped  with  clouds,  and  the  lake 
generally  wore  a  dark  and  stormy  appearance,  but  from 
its  surface  just  north  of  Sugar  Island,  six  or  eight  miles 
distant,  there  was  reflected  upward  to  us  through  the 
misty  air  a  bright  blue  tinge  from  the  distant  unseen  sky 
of  another  latitude  beyond.  They  probably  had  a  clear 
sky  then  at  Greenville,  the  south  end  of  the  lake.  Stand- 


180  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

ing  on  a  mountain  in  the  midst  of  a  lake,  where  would 
you  look  for  the  first  sign  of  approaching  fair  weather  ? 
Not  into  the  heavens,  it  seems,  but. into  the  lake. 

Again  we  mistook  a  little  rocky  islet  seen  through  the 
"  drisk,"  with  some  taller  bare  trunks  or  stumps  on  it, 
for  the  steamer  with  its  smoke-pipes,  but  as  it  had  not 
changed  its  position  after  half  an  hour,  we  were  unde- 
ceived. So  much  do  the  works  of  man  resemble  the 
works  of  nature.  A  moose  might  mistake  a  steamer  for 
a  floating  isle,  and  not  be  scared  till  he  heard  its  puffing 
or  its  whistle. 

If  I  wished  to  see  a  mountain  or  other  scenery  under 
the  most  favorable  auspices,  I  would  go  to  it  in  foul 
weather,  so  as  to  be  there  when  it  cleared  up ;  we  are 
then  in  the  most  suitable  mood,  and  nature  is  most  fresh 
and  inspiring.  There  is  no  serenity  so  fair  as  that  which 
is  just  established  in  a  tearful  eye. 

Jackson,  in  his  Report  on  the  Geology  of  Maine, 
in  1838,  says  of  this  mountain :  "  Hornstone,  which  will 
answer  for  flints,  occurs  in  various  parts  of  the  State, 
where  trap-rocks  have  acted  upon  silicious  slate.  The 
largest  mass  of  this  stone  known  in  the  world  is  Mount 
Kineo,  upon  Moosehead  Lake,  which  appears  to  be  en- 
tirely composed  of  it,  and  rises  seven  hundred  feet  above 
the  lake  level.  This  variety  of  hornstone  I  have  seen 
in  every  part  of  New  England  in  the  form  of  Indian  ar- 
row-heads, hatchets,  chisels,  etc.,  which  were  probably 
obtained  from  this  mountain  by  the  aboriginal  inhabitants 
of  the  country."  I  have  myself  found  hundreds  of  ar- 
row-heads made  of  the  same  material.  It  is  generally 
slate-colored,  with  white  specks,  becoming  a  uniform 
white  where  exposed  to  the  light  and  air,  and  it  breaks 
with  a  conchoidal  fracture,  producing  a  ragged  cutting 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  181 

edge,  I  noticed  some  conchoidal  hollows  more  than  a 
foot  in  diameter.  I  picked  up  a  small  thin  piece  which 
had  so  sharp  an  edge  that  I  used  it  as  a  dull  knife,  and 
to  see  what  I  could  do,  fairly  cut  off  an  aspen  one  inch 
thick  with  it,  by  bending  it  and  making  many  cuts; 
though  I  cut  my  fingers  badly  with  the  back  of  it  in  the 
meanwhile. 

From  the  summit  of  the  precipice  which  forms  the 
southern  and  eastern  sides  of  this  mountain  peninsula, 
and  is  its  most  remarkable  feature,  being  described  as  five 
or  six  hundred  feet  high,  we  looked,  and  probably  might 
have  jumped  down  to  the  water,  or  to  the  seemingly 
dwarfish  trees  on  the  narrow  neck  of  land  which  connects 
it  with  the  main.  It  is  a  dangerous  place  to  try  the 
steadiness  of  your  nerves.  Hodge  says  that  these  cliffs 
descend  "  perpendicularly  ninety  feet "  below  the  surface 
of  the  water. 

The  plants  which  chiefly  attracted  our  attention  on  this 
mountain  were  the  mountain  cinquefoil  (Potentilla  tri- 
dentata),  abundant  and  in  bloom  still  at  the  very  base,  by 
the  water-side,  though  it  is  usually  confined  to  the  sum- 
mits of  mountains  in  our  latitude;  very  beautiful  hare- 
bells overhanging  the  precipice;  bear-berry;  the  Can- 
ada blueberry  (Vaccinium  Canadense),  similar  to  (the  V. 
Pennsylvanicum)  our  earliest  one,  but  entire  leaved  and 
with  a  downy  stem  and  leaf;  I  have  not  seen  it  in  Mas- 
sachusetts ;  Diervilla  trifida ;  Microstylis  ophioglossoides, 
an  orchidaceous  plant  new  to  us ;  wild  holly  (Nemopan- 
thes  Canadensis)  ;  the  great  round-leaved  orchis  (Platan- 
thera  orbiculata),  not  long  in  bloom ;  Spiranthes  cernua, 
at  the  top ;  bunch-berry,  reddening  as  we  ascended, 
green  at  the  base  of  the  mountain,  red  at  the  top ;  and 
the  small  fern,  Woodsia  ilvensis,  growing,  in  tufts,  now  in 


182  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

fruit.  I  have  also  received  Liparis  liliifolia,  or  tway- 
blade,  from  this  spot.  Having  explored  the  wonders  of 
the  mountain,  and  the  weather  being  now  entirely  cleared 
up,  we  commenced  the  descent.  We  met  the  Indian, 
puffing  and  panting,  about  one  third  of  the  way  up,  but 
thinking  that  he  must  be  near  the  top,  and  saying  that  it 
took  his  breath  away.  I  thought  that  superstition  had 
something  to  do  with  his  fatigue.  Perhaps  he  believed 
that  he  was  climbing  over  the  back  of  a  tremendous 
moose.  He  said  that  he  had  never  ascended  Kineo. 
On  reaching  the  canoe  we  found  that  he  had  caught  a 
lake  trout  weighing  about  three  pounds,  at  the  depth  of 
twenty-five  or  thirty  feet,  while  we  were  on  the  moun- 
tain. 

When  we  got  to  the  camp,  the  canoe  was  taken  out 
and  turned  over,  and  a  log  laid  across  it  to  prevent  its 
being  blown  away.  The  Indian  cut  some  large  logs  of 
damp  and  rotten  hard  wood  to  smoulder  and  keep  fire 
through  the  night.  The  trout  was  fried  for  supper.  Our 
tent  was  of  thin  cotton  cloth  and  quite  small,  forming 
with  the  ground  a  triangular  prism  closed  at  the  rear  end, 
six  feet  long,  seven  wide,  and  four  high,  so  that  we  could 
barely  sit  up  in  the  middle.  It  required  two  forked 
stakes,  a  smooth  ridge-pole,  and  a  dozen  or  more  pins  to 
pitch  it.  It  kept  off  dew  and  wind,  and  an  ordinary 
rain,  and  answered  our  purpose  well  enough.  We  re- 
clined within  it  till  bedtime,  each  with  his  baggage  at 
his  head,  or  else  sat  about  the  fire,  having  hung  our  wet 
clothes  on  a  pole  before  the  fire  for  the  night. 

As  we  sat  there,  just  before  night,  looking  out  through 
the  dusky  wood,  the  Indian  heard  a  noise  which  he  said 
was  made  by  a  snake.  He  imitated  it  at  my  request, 
making  a  low  whistling  note, — pheet — pheet,  —  two  or 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH. .  183 

three  times  repeated,  somewhat  like  the  peep  of  the  hy- 
lodes,  but  not  so  loud.  In  answer  to  my  inquiries,  he  said 
that  he  had  never  seen  them  while  making  it,  but  go- 
ing to  the  spot  he  finds  the  snake.  This,  he  said  on 
another  occasion,  was  a  sign  of  rain.  When  I  had  se- 
lected this  place  for  our  camp,  he  had  remarked  that 
there  were  snakes  there,  —  he  saw  them.  But  they  won't 
do  any  hurt,  I  said.  "  O  no,"  he  answered,  "just  as  you 
say,  it  makes  no  difference  to  me." 

He  lay  on  the  right  side  of  the  tent,  because,  as  he 
said,  he  was  partly  deaf  in  one  ear,  and  he  wanted  to 
lie  with  his  good  ear  up.  As  we  lay  there,  he  inquired 
if  I  ever  heard  "  Indian  sing."  I  replied  that  I  had  not 
often,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  not  favor  us  with  a 
song.  He  readily  assented,  and  lying  on  his  back,  with 
his  blanket  wrapped  around  him,  he  commenced  a  slow, 
somewhat  nasal,  yet  musical  chant,  in  his  own  language, 
which  probably  was  taught  his  tribe  long  ago  by  the 
Catholic  missionaries.  He  translated  it  to  us,  sentence  by 
sentence,  afterward,  wishing  to  see  if  we  could  remember 
it.  It  proved  to  be  a  very  simple  religious  exercise  or 
hymn,  the  burden  of  which  was,  that  there  was  only 
one  God  who  ruled  all  the  world.  This  was  hammered 
(or  sung)  out  very  thin,  so  that  some  stanzas  wellnigh 
meant  nothing  at  all,  merely  keeping  up  the  idea.  He 
then  said  that  he  would  sing  us  a  Latin  song ;  but  we  did 
not  detect  any  Latin,  only  one  or  two  Greek  words  in  it, 
—  the  rest  may  have  been  Latin  with  the  Indian  pronun- 
ciation. 

His  singing  carried  me  back  to  the  period  of  the  dis- 
covery of  America,  to  San  Salvador  and  the  Incas,  when 
Europeans  first  encountered  the  simple  faith  of  the  In- 
dian. There  was,  indeed,  a  beautiful  simplicity  about  it ; 


184  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

nothing  of  the  dark  and  savage,  only  the  mild  and  in- 
fantile. The  sentiments  of  humility  and  reverence 
chiefly  were  expressed. 

It  was  a  dense  and  damp  spruce  and  fir  wood  in  which 
we  lay,  and,  except  for  our  fire,  perfectly  dark  ;  and  when 
I  awoke  in  the  night,  I  either  heard  an  owl  from  deeper 
in  the  forest  behind  us,  or  a  loon  from  a  distance  over 
the  lake.  Getting  up  some  time  after  midnight  to  col- 
lect the  scattered  brands  together,  while  my  companions 
were  sound  asleep,  I  observed,  partly  in  the  fire,  which  had 
ceased  to  blaze,  a  perfectly  regular  elliptical  ring  of  light, 
about  five  inches  in  its  shortest  diameter,  six  or  seven  in 
its  longer,  and  from  one  eighth  to  one  quarter  of  an  inch 
wide.  It  was  fully  as  bright  as  the  fire,  but  not  reddish 
or  scarlet  like  a  coal,  but  a  white  and  slumbering  light, 
like  the  glowworm's.  I  could  tell  it  from  the  fire  only 
by  its  whiteness.  I  saw  at  once  that  it  must  be  phospho- 
rescent wood,  which  I  had  so  often  heard  of,  but  never 
chanced  to  see.  Putting  my  finger  on  it,  with  a  little  hes- 
itation, I  found  that  it  was  a  piece  of  dead  moose-wood 
(Acer  striatum)  which  the  Indian  had  cut  off  in  a  slanting 
direction  the  evening  before.  Using  my  knife,  I  discov- 
ered that  the  light  proceeded  from  that  portion  of  the 
sap-wood  immediately  under  the  bark,  and"  thus  presented 
a  regular  ring  at  the  end,  which,  indeed,  appeared  raised 
above  the  level  of  the  wood,  and  when  I  pared  off  the 
bark  and  cut  into  the  sap,  it  was  all  aglow  along  the  log. 
I  was  surprised  to  find  the  wood  quite  hard  and  appar- 
ently sound,  though  probably  decay  had  commenced  in 
the  sap,  and  I  cut  out  some  little  triangular  chips,  and 
placing  them  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand,  carried  them 
into  the  camp,  waked  my  companion,  and  showed  them 
to  him.  They  lit  up  the  inside  of  my  hand,  revealing 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  185 

the  lines  and  wrinkles,  and  appearing  exactly  like  coals 
of  fire  raised  to  a  white  heat,  and  I  saw  at  once  how, 
probably,  the  Indian  jugglers  had  imposed  on  their  peo- 
ple and  on  travellers,  pretending  to  hold  coals  of  fire  in 
their  mouths. 

I  also  noticed  that  part  of  a  decayed  stump  within  four 
or  five  feet  of  the  fire,  an  inch  wide  and  six  inches  long, 
soft  and  shaking  wood,  shone  with  equal  brightness. 

I  neglected  to  ascertain  whether  our  fire  had  anything 
to  do  with  this,  but  the  previous  day's  rain  and  long-con- 
tinued wet  weather  undoubtedly  had. 

I  was  exceedingly  interested  by  this  phenomenon,  and 
already  felt  paid  for  my  journey.  It  could  hardly  have 
thrilled  me  more  if  it  had  taken  the  form  of  letters,  or 
of  the  human  face.  If  I  had  met  with  this  ring  of  light 
while  groping  in  this  forest  alone,  away  from  any  fire,  I 
should  have  been  still  more  surprised.  I  little  thought 
that  there  was  such  a  light  shining  in  the  darkness  of  the 
wilderness  for  me. 

The  next  day  the  Indian  told  me  their  name  for 
this  light,  —  Artoosoqu\  —  and  on  my  inquiring  concern- 
ing the  will-o'-the-wisp,  and  the  like  phenomena,  he  said 
that  his  "folks."  sometimes  saw  fires  passing  along  at  va- 
rious heights,  even  as  high  as  the  trees,  and  making  a 
noise.  I  was  prepared  after  this  to  hear  of  the  most 
startling  and  unimagined  phenomena  witnessed  by  "  his 
folks,"  they  are  abroad  at  all  hours  and  seasons  in  scenes 
so  unfrequented  by  white  men.  Nature  must  have  made 
a  thousand  revelations  to  them  which  are  still  secrets 
to  us. 

I  did  not  regret  my  not  having  seen  this  before,  since 
I  now  saw  it  under  circumstances  so  favorable.  I  was  in 
just  the  frame  of  mind  to  see  something  wonderful,  and 


186  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

this  was  a  phenomenon  adequate  to  my  circumstances 
and  expectation,  and  it  put  me  on  the  alert  to  see  more 
like  it.  I  exulted  like  "  a  pagan  suckled  in  a  creed  "  that 
had  never  been  worn  at  all,  but  was  bran  new,  and  ade- 
quate to  the  occasion.  I  let  science  slide,  and  rejoiced 
in  that  light  as  if  it  had  been  a  fellow-creature.  I  saw 
that  it  was  excellent,  and  was  very  glad  to  know  that  it 
was  so  cheap.  A  scientific  explanation,  as  it  is  called, 
would  have  been  altogether  out  of  place  there.  That  is 
for  pale  daylight.  Science  with  its  retorts  would  have 
put  me  to  sleep  ;  it  was  the  opportunity  to  be  ignorant 
that  I  improved.  It  suggested  to  me  that  there  was 
something  to  be  seen  if  one  had  eyes.  It  made  a  be- 
liever of  me  more  than  before.  I  believed  that  the 
woods  were  not  tenantless,  but  choke-full  of  honest  spir- 
its as  good  as  myself  any  day,  —  not  an  empty  chamber, 
in  which  chemistry  was  left  to  work  alone,  but  an  inhab- 
ited house,  —  and  for  a  few  moments  I  enjoyed  fellowship 
with  them.  Your  so-called  wise  man  goes  trying  to  per- 
suade himself  that  there  is  no  entity  there  but  himself 
and  his  traps,  but  it  is  a  great  deal  easier  to  believe  the 
truth.  It  suggested,  too,  that  the  same  experience  al- 
ways gives  birth  to  the  same  sort  of  belief  or  religion. 
One  revelation  has  been  made  to  the  Indian,  another  to 
the  white  man.  I  have  much  to  learn  of  the  Indian, 
nothing  of  the  missionary.  I  am  not  sure  but  all  that 
would  tempt  me  to  teach  the  Indian  my  religion  would 
be  his  promise  to  teach  me  his.  Long  enough  I  had 
heard  of  irrelevant  things ;  now  at  length  I  was  glad  to 
make  acquaintance  with  the  light  that  dwells  in  rotten 
wood.  Where  is  all  your  knowledge  gone  to  ?  It  evap- 
orates completely,  for  it  has  no  depth. 

I  kept  those  little  chips  and  wet  them  again  the  next 
night,  but  they  emitted  no  light. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  187 

SATURDAY,  July  25. 

At  breakfast  this  Saturday  morning,  the  Indian,  evi- 
dently curious  to  know  what  would  be  expected  of  him 
the  next  day,  whether  we  should  go  along  or  not,  asked 
me  how  I  spent  the  Sunday  when  at  home.  I  told  him 
that  I  commonly  sat  in  my  chamber  reading,  etc.,  in  the 
forenoon,  and  went  to  walk  in  the  afternoon.  At  which 
he  shook  his  head  and  said,  "  Er,  that  is  ver  bad."  "  How 
do  you  spend  it  ? "  I  asked.  He  said  that  he  did  no 
work,  that  he  went  to  church  at  Oldtown  when  he  was  at 
home ;  in  short,  he  did  as  he  had  been  taught  by  the 
whites.  This  led  to  a  discussion  in  which  I  found  my- 
self in  the  minority.  He  stated  that  he  was  a  Protestant, 
and  asked  me  if  I  was.  I  did  not  at  first  know  what  to 
say,  but  I  thought  that  I  could  answer  with  truth  that  I 
was. 

When  we  were  washing  the  dishes  in  the  lake,  many 
fishes,  apparently  chivin,  came  close  up  to  us  to  get  the 
particles  of  grease. 

The  weather  seemed  to  be  more  settled  this  morning, 
and  we  set  out  early  in  order  to  finish  our  voyage  up  the 
lake  before  the  wind  arose.  Soon  after,  starting  the  In- 
dian directed  our  attention  to  the  Northeast  Carry,  which 
we  could  plainly  see,  about  thirteen  miles  distant  in  that 
direction  as  measured  on  the  map,  though  it  is  called 
much  farther.  This  carry  is  a  rude  wooden  railroad, 
running  north  and  south  about  two  miles,  perfectly 
straight,  from  the  lake  to  the  Penobscot,  through  a  low 
tract,  with  a  clearing  three  or  four  rods  wide ;  but  low  as 
it  is,  it  passes  over  the  height  of  land  there.  This  open- 
ing appeared  as  a  clear  bright,  or  light  point  in  the  hori- 
zon, resting  on  the  edge  of  the  lake,  whose  breadth  a  hair 
could  have  covered  at  a  considerable  distance  from  the 


188  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

eye,  and  of  no  appreciable  height.  We  should  not  have 
suspected  it  to  be  visible  if  the  Indian  had  not  drawn  our 
attention  to  it.  It  was  a  remarkable  kind  of  light  to 
steer  for,  —  daylight  seen  through  a  vista  in  the  forest, 
—  but  visible  as  far  as  an  ordinary  beacon  by  night. 

We  crossed  a  deep  and  wide  bay  which  makes  east- 
ward north  of  Kineo,  leaving  an  island  on  our  left,  and 
keeping  up  the  eastern  side  of  the  lake.  This  way  or 
that  led  to  some  Tomhegan  or  Socatarian  stream,  up 
which  the  Indian  had  hunted,  and  whither  I  longed  to 
go.  The  last  name,  however,  had  a  bogus  sound,  too 
much  like  sectarian  for  me,  as  if  a  missionary  had  tam- 
pered with  it ;  but  I  know  that  the  Indians  were  very 
liberal.  I  think  I  should  have  inclined  to  the  Tomhegan 
first. 

We  then  crossed  another  broad  bay,  which,  as  we 
could  no  longer  observe  the  shore  particularly,  afforded 
ample  time  for  conversation.  The  Indian  said  that  he 
had  got  his  money  by  hunting,  mostly  high  up  the  west 
branch  of  the  Penobscot,  and  toward  the  head  of  the  St. 
John ;  he  had  hunted  there  from  a  boy,  and  knew  all 
about  that  region.  His  game  had  been,  beaver,  otter, 
black  cat  (or  fisher),  sable,  moose,  &c.  Loup  cervier 
(or  Canada  lynx)  were  plenty  yet  in  burnt  grounds. 
For  food  in  the  woods,  he  uses  partridges,  ducks,  dried 
moose-meat,  hedge-hog,  &c.  Loons,  too,  were  good,  only 
"  bile  'em  good."  He  told  us  at  some  length  how  he  had 
suffered  from  starvation  when  a  mere  lad,  being  over- 
taken by  winter  when  hunting  with  two  grown  Indians 
in  the  northern  part  of  Maine,  and  obliged  to  leave  their 
canoe  on  account  of  ice. 

Pointing  into  the  bay,  he  said  that  it  was  the  way  to 
various  lakes  which  he  knew.  Only  solemn  bear-haunted 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  189 

mountains,  with  their  great  wooded  slopes,  were  visible ; 
where,  as  man  is  not,  we  suppose  some  other  power  to 
be.  My  imagination  personified  the  slopes  themselves, 
as  if  by  their  very  length  they  would  waylay  you,  and 
compel  you  to  camp  again  on  them  before  night.  Some 
invisible  glutton  would  seem  to  drop  from  the  trees  and 
gnaw  at  the  heart  of  the  solitary  hunter  who  threaded 
those  woods;  and  yet  I  was  tempted  to  walk  there. 
The  Indian  said  that  he  had  been  along  there  several 
times. 

I  asked  him  how  he  guided  himself  in  the  woods. 
"  0,"  said  he,  "  I  can  tell  good  many  ways."  When  I 
pressed  him  further,  he  answered,  "  Sometimes  I  lookum 
side-hill,"  and  he  glanced  toward  a  high  hill  or  mountain 
on  the  eastern  shore,  "  great  difference  between  the  north 
and  south,  see  where  the  sun  has  shone  most.  So  trees, — 
the  large  limbs  bend  toward  south.  Sometimes  I  lookum 
locks"  (rocks).  I  asked  what  he  saw  on  the  rocks,  but 
he  did  not  describe  anything  in  particular,  answering 
vaguely,  in  a  mysterious  or  drawling  tone,  "  Bare  locks 
on  lake  shore,  —  great  difference  between  N.  S.  E.  W. 
side,  —  can  tell  what  the  sun  has  shone  on."  "  Suppose," 
said  I,  "  that  I  should  take  you  in  a  dark  night,  right  up 
here  into  the  middle  of  the  woods  a  hundred  miles,  set  you 
down,  and  turn  you  round  quickly  twenty  times,  could 
you  steer  straight  to  Oldtown?"  "O  yer,"  said  he, 
"  have  done  pretty  much  same  thing.  I  will  tell  you. 
Some  years  ago  I  met  an  old  white  hunter  at  Millinocket ; 
very  good  hunter.  He  said  he  could  go  anywhere  in 
the  woods.  He  wanted  to  hunt  with  me  that  day,  so 
we  start.  We  chase  a  moose  all  the  forenoon,  round 
and  round,  till  middle  of  afternoon,  when  we  kill  him. 
Then  I  said  to  him,  now  you. go  straight  to  camp.  Don't 


190  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

go  round  and  round  where  we  Ve  been,  but  go  straight. 
He  said,  I  can't  do  that,  I  don't  know  where  I  am. 
Where  you  think  camp  ?  I  asked.  He  pointed  so. 
Then  I  laugh  at  him.  I  take  the  lead  and  go  right  off 
the  other  way,  cross  our  tracks  many  times,  straight 
camp."  "  How  do  you  do  that  ?  "  asked  I.  "  O,  I  can't 
tell  you"  he  replied.  "  Great  difference  between  me 
and  white  man." 

It  appeared  as  if  the  sources  of  information  were  so 
various  that  he  did  not  give  a  distinct,  conscious  attention 
to  any  one,  and  so  could  not  readily  refer  to  any  when 
questioned  about  it,  but  he  found  his  way  very  much 
as  an  animal  does.  Perhaps  what  is  commonly  called 
instinct  in  the  animal,  in  this  case  is  merely  a  sharpened 
and  educated  sense.  Often,  when  an  Indian  says,  "I 
don't  know,"  in  regard  to  the  route  he  is  to  take,  he  does 
not  mean  what  a  white  man  would  by  those  words,  for 
his  Indian  instinct  may  tell  him  still  as  much  as  the 
most  confident  white  man  knows.  He  does  not  carry 
things  in  his  head,  nor  remember  the  route  exactly  like 
a  white  man,  but  relies  on  himself  at  the  moment.  Not 
having  experienced  the  need  of  the  other  sort  of  knowl- 
edge, all  labelled  and  arranged,  he  has  not  acquired  it. 

The  white  hunter  with  whom  I  talked  in  the  stage . 
knew  some  of  the  resources  of  the  Indian.  He  said  that 
he  steered  by  the  wind,  or  by  the  limbs  of  the  hemlocks, 
which  were  largest  on  the  south  side ;  also  sometimes, 
when  he  knew  that  there  was  a  lake  near,  by  firing  his 
gun  and  listening  to  hear  the  direction  and  distance  of 
the  echo  from  over  it. 

The  course  we  took  over  this  lake,  and  others  after- 
ward, was  rarely  direct,  but  a  succession  of  curves  from 
point  to  point,  digressing  considerably  into  each  of  the 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  191 

bays ;  and  this  was  not  merely  on  account  of  the  wind, 
for  the  Indian,  looking  toward  the  middle  of  the  lake, 
said  it  was  hard  to  go  there,  easier  to  keep  near  the 
shore,  because  he  thus  got  over  it  by  successive  reaches 
and  saw  by  the  shore  how  he  got  along. 

The  following  will  suffice  for  a  common  experience  in 
crossing  lakes  in  a  canoe.  As  the  forenoon  advanced 
the  wind  increased.  The  last  bay  which  we  crossed 
before  reaching  the  desolate  pier  at  the  northeast  carry, 
was  two  or  three  miles  over,  and  the  wind  was  south- 
westerly. After  going  a  third  of  the  way,  the  waves  had 
increased  so  as  occasionally  to  wash  into  the  canoe,  and 
we  saw  that  it  was  worse  and  worse  ahead.  At  first  we 
might  have  turned  about,  but  were  not  willing  to.  It 
would  have  been  of  no  use  to  follow  the  course  of  the 
shore,  for  not  only  the  distance  would  have  been  much 
greater,  but  the  waves  ran  still  higher  there  on  account 
of  the  greater  sweep  the  wind  had.  At  any  rate  it  would 
have  been  dangerous  now  to  alter  our  course,  because 
the  waves  would  have  struck  us  at  an  advantage.  It 
will  not  do  to  meet  them  at  right  angles,  for  then  they 
will  wash  in  both  sides,  but  you  must  take  them  quarter- 
ing. So  the  Indian  stood  up  in  the  canoe,  and  exerted 
all  his  skill  and  strength  for  a  mile  or  two,  while  I  pad- 
dled right  along  in  order  to  give  him  more  steerage-way. 
For  more  than  a  mile  he  did  not  allow  a  single  wave  to 
strike  the  canoe  as  it  would,  but  turned  it  quickly  from 
this  side  to  that,  so  that  it  would  always  be  on  or  near 
the  crest  of  a  wave  when  it  broke,  where  all  its  force 
was  spent,  and  we  merely  settled  down  with  it.  At 
length  I  jumped  out  on  to  the  end  of  the  pier,  against 
which  the  waves  were  dashing  violently,  in  order  to 
lighten  the  canoe,  and  catch  it  at  the  landing,  which  was 


192  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

not  much  sheltered;  but* just  as  I  jumped  we  took  in 
two  or  three  gallons  of  water.  I  remarked  to  the  Indian, 
"  You  managed  that  well,"  to  which  he  replied :  "  Ver 
few  men  do  that.  Great  many  waves  ;  when  I  look  out 
for  one,  another  come  quick." 

While  the  Indian  went  to  get  cedar-bark,  &c.,  to  carry 
his  canoe  with,  we  cooked  the  dinner  on  the  shore,  at 
this  end  of  the  carry,  in  the  midst  of  a  sprinkling  rain. 

He  prepared  his  canoe  for  carrying  in  this  wise.  He 
took  a  cedar  shingle  or  splint  eighteen  inches  long  and 
four  or  five  wide,  rounded  at  one  end,  that  the  corners 
might  not  be  in  the  way,  and  tied  it  with  cedar-bark  by 
two  holes  made  midway,  near  the  edge  on  each  side,  to 
the  middle  crossbar  of  the  canoe.  When  the  canoe  was 
lifted  upon  his  head  bottom  up,  this  shingle,  with  its 
rounded  end  uppermost,  distributed  the  weight  over  his 
shoulders  and  head,  while  a  band  of  cedar-bark,  tied  to 
the  cross-bar  on  each  side  of  the  shingle,  passed  round 
his  breast,  and  another  longer  one,  outside  of  the  last, 
round  his  forehead ;  also  a  hand  on  each  side  rail  served 
to  steer  the  canoe  and  keep  it  from  rocking.  He  thus 
carried  it  with  his  shoulders,  head,  breast,  forehead,  and 
both  hands,  as  if  the  upper  part  of  his  body  were  all  one 
hand  to  clasp  and  hold  it.  If  you  know  of  a  better  way, 
I  should  like  to  hear  of  it.  A  cedar-tree  furnished  all 
the  gear  in  this  case,  as  it  had  the  woodwork  of  the 
canoe.  One  of  the  paddles  rested  on  the  crossbars  in 
the  bows.  I  took  the  canoe  upon  my  head  and  found 
that  I  could  carry  it  with  ease,  though  the  straps  were 
not  fitted  to  my  shoulders ;  but  I  let  him  carry  it,  not 
caring  to  establish  a  different  precedent,  though  he  said 
that  if  I  would  carry  the  canoe,  he  would  take  all  the 
rest  of  the  baggage,  except  my  companion's.  This  shin- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.        .     193 

gle  remained  tied  to  the  crossbar  throughout  the  voyage, 
was  always  ready  for  the  carries,  and  also  served  to  pro- 
tect the  back  of  one  passenger. 

We  were  obliged  to  go  over  this  carry  twice,  our  load 
was  so  great.  But  the  carries  were  an  agreeable  variety, 
and  we  improved  the  opportunity  to  gather  the  rare 
plants  which  we  had  seen,  when  we  returned  empty- 
handed. 

"We  reached  the  Penobscot  about  four  o'clock,  and 
found  there  some  St.  Francis  Indians  encamped  on  the 
bank,  in  the  same  place  where  I  camped  with  four 
Indians  four  years  before.  They  were  making  a  canoe, 
and,  as  then,  drying  moose-meat.  The  meat  looked  very 
suitable  to  make  a  black  broth  at  least.  Our  Indian  said 
it  was  not  good.  Their  camp  was  covered  with  spruce- 
bark.  They  had  got  a  young  moose,  taken  in  the  river 
a  fortnight  before,  confined  in  a  sort  of  cage  of  logs  piled 
up  cob-fashion,  seven  or  eight  feet  high.  It  was  quite 
tame,  about  four  feet  high,  and  covered  with  moose-flies. 
There  was  a  large  quantity  of  cornel  (C.  stolonifera), 
red  maple,  and  also  willow  and  aspen  boughs,  stuck 
through  between  the  logs  on  all  sides,  but-ends  out,  and 
on  their  leaves  it  was  browsing.  It  looked  at  first  as  if 
it  were  in  a  bower  rather  than  a  pen. 

Our  Indian  said  that  he  used  Hack  spruce-roots  to  sew 
canoes  with,  obtaining  it  from  high  lands  or  mountains. 
The  St.  Francis  Indian  thought  that  white  spruce-roots 
might  be  best.  But  the  former  said,  "  No  good,  break, 
can't  split  'em  " ;  also  that  they  were  hard  to  get,  deep 
in  ground,  but  the  black  were  near  the  surface,  on  higher 
land,  as  well  as  tougher.  He  said  that  the  white  spruce 
was  subekoondark,  black,  skusk.  I  told  him  I  thought 
that  I  could  make  a  canoe,  but  he  expressed  great  doubt 


194  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

of  it ;  at  any  rate,  he  thought  that  my  work  would  not  be 
"neat"  the  first  time.  An  Indian  at  Greenville  had 
told  me  that  the  winter  bark,  that  is,  bark  taken  off 
before  the  sap  flows  in  May,  was  harder  and  much  better 
than  summer  bark. 

Having  reloaded,  he  paddled  down  the  Penobscot, 
which,  as  the  Indian  remarked,  and  even  I  detected, 
remembering  how  it  looked  before,  was  uncommonly  full. 
We  soon  after  saw  a  splendid  yellow  lily  (Lilium  Cana- 
dense)  by  the  shore,  which  I  plucked.  It  was  six  feet 
high,  and  had  twelve  flowers,  in  two  whorls,  forming  a 
pyramid,  such  as  I  have  seen  in  Concord.  We  after- 
ward saw  many  more  thus  tall  along  this  stream,  and 
also  still  more  numerous  on  the  East  Branch,  and,  on 
the  latter,  one  which  I  thought  approached  yet  nearer  to 
the  Lilium  superbum.  The  Indian  asked  what  we  called 
it,  and  said  that  the  "  loots  "  (roots)  were  good  for  soup, 
that  is,  to  cook  with  meat,  to  thicken  it,  taking  the  place 
of  flour.  They  get  them  in  the  fall.  I  dug  some,  and 
found  a  mass  of  bulbs  pretty  deep  in  the  earth,  two  . 
inches  in  diameter,  looking,  and  even  tasting,  somewhat 
like  raw  green  corn  on  the  ear. 

When  we  had  gone  about  three  miles  down  the  Penob- 
scot, we  saw  through  the  tree-tops  a  thunder-shower 
coming  up  in  the  west,  and  we  looked  out  a  camping- 
place  in  good  season,  about  five  o'clock,  on  the  west  side, 
not  far  below  the  mouth  of  what  Joe  Aitteon,  in  '53, 
called  Lobster  Stream,  coming  from  Lobster  Pond.  Our 
present  Indian,  however,  did  not  admit  this  name,  nor 
even  that  of  Matahumkeag,  which  is  on  the  map,  but 
called  the  lake  Beskabekuk. 

I  will  describe,  once  for  all,  the  routine  of  camping  at 
this  season.  We  generally  told  the  Indian  that  we  would 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  195 

stop  at  the  first  suitable  place,  so  that  he  might  be  on  the 
lookout,  for  it.  Having  observed  a  clear,  hard,  and  flat 
beach  to  land  on,  free  from  mud,  and  from  stones  which 
would  injure  the  canoe,  one  would  run  up  the  bank  to 
see  if  there  were  open  and  level  space  enough  for  the 
camp  between  the  trees,  or  if  it  could  be  easily  cleared, 
preferring  at  the  same  time  a  cool  place,  on  account  of 
insects.  Sometimes  we  paddled  a  mile  or  more  before 
finding  one  to  our  minds,  for  where  the  shore  was  suita- 
ble, the  bank  would  often  be  too  steep,  or  else  too  low 
and  grassy,  and  therefore  mosquitoey.  We  then  took 
out  the  baggage  and  drew  up  the  canoe,  sometimes  turn- 
ing it  over  on  shore  for  safety.  The  Indian  cut  a  path 
to  the  spot  we  had  selected,  which  was  usually  within 
two  or  three  rods  of  the  water,  and  we  carried  up  our 
baggage.  One,  perhaps,  takes  canoe-birck  bark,  always 
at  hand,  and  dead  dry  wood  or  bark,  and  kindles  a  fire 
five  or  six  feet  in  front  of  where  we  intend  to  lie.  It 
matters  not,  commonly,  on  which  side  this  is,  because 
there  is  little  or  no  wind  in  so  dense  a  wood  at  that  sea- 
son ;  and  then  he  gets  a  kettle  of  water  from  the  river, 
and  takes  out  the  pork,  bread,  coffee,  &c.,  from  their 
several  packages. 

Another,  meanwhile,  having  the  axe,  cuts  down  the 
nearest  dead  rock-maple  or  other  dry  hard  wood,  col- 
lecting several  large  logs  to  last  through  the  night,  also 
a  green  stake,  with  a  notch  or  fork  to  it,  which  is  slanted 
over  the  fire,  perhaps  resting  on  a  rock  or  forked  stake, 
to  hang  the  kettle  on,  and  two  forked  stakes  and  a  pole 
for  the  tent. 

The  third  man  pitches  the  tent,  cuts  a  dozen  or  more 
pins  with  his  knife,  usually  of  moose-wood,  the  common 
underwood,  to  fasten  it  down  with,  and  then  collects  an 


196  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

armful  or  two  of  fir-twigs,*  arbor-vitae,  spruce,  or  hem- 
lock, whichever  is  at  hand,  and  makes  the  bed,  beginning 
at  either  end,  and  laying  the  twigs  wrong-side  up,  in  reg- 
ular rows,  covering  the  stub-ends  of  the  last  row ;  first, 
however,  filling  the  hollows,  if  there  are  any,  with  coarser 
material.  Wrangel  says  that  his  guides  in  Siberia  first 
strewed  a  quantity  of  dry  brushwood  on  the  ground,  and 
then  cedar  twigs  on  that. 

Commonly,  by  the  time  the  bed  is  made,  or  within  fif- 
teen or  twenty  minutes,  the  water  boils,  the  pork  is  fried, 
and  supper  is  ready.  We  eat  this  sitting  on  the  ground, 
or  a  stump,  if  there  is  any,  around  a  large  piece  of  birch- 
bark  for  a  table,  each  holding  a  dipper  in  one  hand  and 
a  piece  of  ship-bread  or  fried  pork  in  the  other,  frequently 
making  a  pass  with  his  hand,  or  thrusting  his  head  into 
the  smoke,  to  avoid  the  mosquitoes. 

Next,  pipes  are  lit  by  those  who  smoke,  and  veils  are 
donned  by  those  who  have  them,  and  we  hastily  examine 
and  dry  our  plants,  anoint  our  faces  and  hands,  and  go 
to  bed,  —  and  —  the  mosquitoes. 

Though  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  see  the  country, 
there 's  rarely  any  time  to  spare,  hardly  enough  to  exam- 
ine a  plant,  before  the  night  or  drowsiness  is  upon  you. 

Such  was  the  ordinary  experience,  but  this  evening 
we  had  camped  earlier  on  account  of  the  rain,  and  had 
more  time. 

We  found  that  our  camp  to-night  was  on  an  old,  and 
now  more  than  usually  indistinct,  supply-road,  running 
along  the  river.  What  is  called  a  road  there  shows  no 
ruts  or  trace  of  wheels,  for  they  are  not  used ;  nor,  in- 
deed, of  runners,  since  they  are  used  only  in  the  winter, 
when  the  snow  is  several  feet  deep.  It  is  only  an  indis- 
*  These  twigs  are  called  in  Rasle's  Dictionary,  Sediak. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  197 

tinct  vista  through  the  wood,  which  it  takes  air  experi- 
enced eye  to  detect. 

We  had  no  sooner  pitched  our  tent  than  the  thunder- 
shower  burst  on  us,  and  we  hastily  crept  under  it,  draw- 
ing our  bags  after  us,  curious  to  see  how  much  of  a  shel- 
ter our  thin  cotton  roof  was  going  to  be  in  this  excursion. 
Though  the  violence  of  the  rain  forced  a  fine  shower 
through  the  cloth  before  it  was  fairly  wetted  and  shrunk, 
with  which  we  were  well  bedewed,  we  managed  to  keep 
pretty  dry,  only  a  box  of  matches  having  been  left  out 
and  spoiled,  and  before  we  were  aware  of  it  the  shower 
was  over,  and  only  the  dripping  trees  imprisoned  us. 

Wishing  to  see  what  fishes  there  were  in  the  river 
there,  we  cast  our  lines  over  the  wet  bushes  on  the  shore, 
but  they  were  repeatedly  swept  down  the  swift  stream  in 
vain.  So,  leaving  the  Indian,  we  took  the  canoe  just  before 
dark,  and  dropped  down  the  river  a  few  rods  to  fish  at 
the  mouth  of  a  sluggish  brook  on  the  opposite  side.  We 
pushed  up  this  a  rod  or  two,  where,  perhaps,  only  a  canoe 
had  been  before.  But  though  there  were  a  few  small 
fishes,  mostly  chivin,  there,  we  were  soon  driven  off"  by 
the  mosquitoes.  While  there  we  heard  the  Indian  fire 
his  gun  twice  in  such  rapid  succession  that  we  thought  it 
must  be  double-barrelled,  though  we  observed  afterward 
that  it  was  single.  His  object  was  to  clean  out  and  dry 
it  after  the  rain,  and  he  then  loaded  it  with  ball,  being 
now  on  ground  where  he  expected  to  meet  with  'large 
game.  This  sudden,  loud,  crashing  noise  in*the  still  aisles 
of  the  forest,  affected  me  like  an  insult  to  nature,  or  ill 
manners  at  any  rate,  as  if  you  were  to  fire  a  gun  in  a 
hall  or  temple.  It  was  not  heard  far,  however,  except 
along  the  river,  the  sound  being  rapidly  hushed  up  or 
absorbed  by  the  damp  trees  and  mossy  ground. 


198  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

The  Indian  made  a  little  smothered  fire  of  damp 
leaves  close  to  the  back  of  the  camp,  that  the  smoke 
might  drive  through  and  keep  out  the  mosquitoes ;  but 
just  before  we  fell  asleep  this  suddenly  blazed  up,  and 
came  near  setting  fire  to  the  tent.  We  were  considerably 
molested  by  mosquitoes  at  this  camp. 

SUNDAY,  July  26. 

The  note  of  the  white-throated  sparrow,  a  very  in- 
spiriting but  almost  wiry  sound,  was  the  first  heard  in 
the  morning,  and  with  this  all  the  woods  rang.  This 
was  the  prevailing  bird  in  the  northern  part  of  Maine. 
The  forest  generally  was  all  alive  with  them  at  this  sea- 
son, and  they  were  proportionally  numerous  and  musical 
about  Bangor.  They  evidently  breed  in  that  State. 
Wilson  did  not  know  where  they  bred,  and  says,  "  Their 
only  note  is  a  kind  of  chip."  Though  commonly  un- 
seen, their  simple  ah,  te-te-te,  te-te-te,  te-te-te,  so  sharp  and 
piercing,  was  as  distinct  to  the  ear  as  the  passage  of  a 
spark  of  fire  shot  into  the  darkest  of  the  forest  would  be 
to  the  eye.  I  thought  that  they  commonly  uttered  it  as 
they  flew.  I  hear  this  note  for  a  few  days  only  in  the 
spring,  as  they  go  through  Concord,  and  in  the  fall  see 
them  again  going  southward,  but  then  they  are  mute. 
We  were  commonly  aroused  by  their  lively  strain  very 
early.  What  a  glorious  time  they  must  have  in  that 
wilderness,  far  from  mankind  and  election  day ! 

I  told  the  Indian  that  we  would  go  to  church  to  Che- 
suncook  this  {Sunday)  morning,  some  fifteen  miles.  It 
was  settled  weather  at  last.  A  few  swallows  flitted  over 
the  water,  we  heard  the  white  throats  along  the  shore, 
the  phebe  notes  of  the  chicadee,  and,  I  believe,  red-starts, 
and  moose-flies  of  large  size  pursued  us  in  mid-stream. 

The  Indian  thought  that  we  should  lie  by  on  Sunday. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  199 

Said  he,  "  We  come  here  lookum  things,  look  all  round ; 
but  come  Sunday,  lock  up  all  that,  and  then  Monday  look 
again."  He  spoke  of  an  Indian  of  his  acquaintance  who 
had  been  with  some  ministers  to  Ktaadn,  and  had  told 
him  how  they  conducted.  This  he  described  in  a  low  and 
solemn  voice.  "  They  make  a  long  prayer  every  morn- 
ing and  night,  and  at  every  meal.  Come  Sunday,"  said 
he,  "  they  stop  'em,  no  go  at  all  that  day,  —  keep  still,  — 
preach  all  day,  —  first  one  then  another,  just  like  church. 
O,  ver  good  men."  "  One  day,"  said  he,  "  going  along  a 
river,  they  came  to  the  body  of  a  man  in  the  water, 
drowned  good  while,  all  ready  fall  to  pieces.  They  go 
right  ashore,  —  stop  there,  go  no  farther  that  day,  —  they 
have  meeting  there,  preach  and  pray  just  like  Sunday. 
Then  they  get  poles  and  lift  up  the  body,  and  they  go  back 
and  carry  the  body 'with  them.  O,  they  ver  good  men." 

I  judged  from  this  account  that  their  every  camp  was 
a  camp-meeting,  and  they  had  mistaken  their  route,  — 
they  should  have  gone  to  Eastham  ;  that  they  wanted 
an  opportunity  to  preach  somewhere  more  than  to  see 
Ktaadn.  I  read  of  another  similar  party  that  seem  to 
have  spent  their  time  there  singing  the  songs  of  Zion. 
I  was  glad  that  I  did  not  go  to  that  mountain  with  such 
slow  coaches. 

However,  the  Indian  added,  plying  the  paddle  all  the 
while,  that  if  we  would  go  along,  he  must  go  with  us, 
he  our  man,  and  he  suppose  that  if  he  no  takum  pay  for 
what  he  do  Sunday,  then  ther  's  no  harm,  but  if  he 
takum  pay,  then  wrong.  I  told  him  that  he  was  stricter 
than  white  men.  Nevertheless,  I  noticed  that  he  did 
not  forget  to  reckon  in  the  Sundays  at  last. 

He  appeared  to  be  a  very  religious  man,  and  said  his 
prayers  in  a  loud  voice;  in  Indian,  kneeling  before  the 


200  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

camp,  morning  and  evening,  —  sometimes  scrambling  up 
again  in  haste  when  he  had  forgotten  this,  and  saying 
them  with  great  rapidity.  In  the  course  of  the  day,  he 
remarked,  not  very  originally,  "  Poor  man  remember- 
um  God  more  than  rich." 

We  soon  passed  the  island  where  I  had  camped  four 
years  before,  and  I  recognized  the  very  spot.  The  dead 
water,  a  mile  or  two  below  it,  the  Indian  called,  Beska 
bekukskishtuk,  from  the  lake  Beskabekuk,  which  empties 
in  above.  This  dead  water,  he  said,,  was  "  a  great  place 
for  moose  always."  We  saw  the  grass  bent  where  a 
moose  came  out  the  night  before,  and  the  Indian  said 
that  he  could  smell  one  as  far  as  he  could  see  him ;  but, 
he  added,  that  if  he  should  see  five  or  six  to-day  close 
by  canoe,  he  no  shoot  'em.  Accordingly,  as  he  was 
the  only  one  of  the  party  who  had  a  gun,  or  had  come 
a-hunting,  the  moose  were  safe. 

Just  below  this,  a  cat-owl  flew  heavily  over  the 
stream,  and  he,  asking  if  I  knew  what  it  was,  imitated 
very  well  the  common  hoo,  hoo,  hoo,  hoorer,  hoo,  of  our 
woods  ;  making  a  hard,  guttural  sound,  "  Ugh,  ugh,  ugh, 
—  ugh,  ugh."  When  we  passed  the  Moose-horn,  he 
said  that  it  had  no  name.  What  Joe  Aitteon  had 
called  Ragmuff,  he  called  Pay  tay  te  quick,  and  said  that 
it  meant  Burnt  Ground  Stream.  We  stopped  there, 
where  I  had  stopped  before,  and  I  bathed  in  this  tribu- 
tary. It  was  shallow  but  cold,  apparently  too  cold  for 
the  Indian,  who  stood  looking  on.  As  we  were  pushing 
away  again,  a  white-beaked  eagle  sailed  over  our  heads. 
A  reach  some  miles  above  Pine  Stream,  where  there 
were  several  islands,  the  Indian  said  was  Nonglangyis, 
dead-water.  Pine  Stream  he  called  Black  River,  and 
said  that  its  Indian  name  was  KarsaootuJc.  He  could 
go  to  Caribou  Lake  that  way. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BEANCH.  201 

We  carried  a  part  of  the  baggage  about  Pine  Stream 
Falls,  while  the  Indian  went  down  in  the  canoe.  A 
Bangor  merchant  had  told  us  that  two  men  in  his  em- 
ploy were  drowned  some  time  ago  while  passing  these 
falls  in  a  bateau,  and  a  third  clung  to  a  rock  all  night, 
and  was  taken  off  in  the  morning.  There  were  mag- 
nificent great  purple-fringed  orchises  on  this  carry  and 
the  neighboring  shores.  I  measured  the  largest  canoe- 
birch  which  I  saw  in  this  journey  near  the  end  of  the 
carry.  It  was  14£  feet  in  circumference  at  two  feet  from 
the  ground,  but  at  five  feet  divided  into  three  parts.  The 
canoe-birches  thereabouts  were  commonly  marked  by 
conspicuous  dark  spiral  ridges,  with  a  groove  between,  so 
that  I  thought  at  first  that  they  had  been  struck  by  light- 
ning, but,  as  the  Indian  said,  it  was  evidently  caused  by 
the  grain  of  the  tree.  He  cut  a  small,  woody  knob,  as 
big  as  a  filbert,  from  the  trunk  of  a  fir,  apparently  an  old 
balsam  vesicle  filled  with  wood,  which  he  said  was  good 
medicine. 

After  we  had  embarked  and  gone  half  a  mile,  my 
companion  remembered  that  he  had  left  his  knife,  and 
we  paddled  back  to  get  it,  against  the  strong  and  swift 
current.  This  taught  us  the  difference  between  going 
up  and  down  the  stream,  for  while  we  were  working 
our  way  back  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  we  should  have  gone 
down  a  mile  and  a  half  at  least.  So  we  landed,  and 
while  he  and  the  Indian  were  gone  back  for  it,  I 
watched  the  motions  of  the  foam,  a  kind  of  white  water- 
fowl near  the  shore,  forty  or  fifty  rods  below.  It  alter- 
nately appeared  and  disappeared  behind  the  rock,  being 
carried  round  by  an  eddy.  Even  this  semblance  of  life 
was  interesting  on  that  lonely  river. 

Immediately  below  these  falls  was  the  Chesuncook 
9* 


202  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

dead-water,  caused  by  the  flowing  back  of  the  lake.  As 
we  paddled  slowly  over  this,  the  Indian  told  us  a  story 
of  his  hunting  thereabouts,  and  something  more  interest- 
ing about  himself.  It  appeared  that  he  had  represented 
his  tribe  at  Augusta,  and  also  once  at  Washington,  where 
he  had  met  some  Western  chiefs.  He  had  been  con- 
sulted at  Augusta,  and  gave  advice,  which  he  said  was 
followed,  respecting  the  eastern  boundary  of  Maine,  as 
determined  by  highlands  and  streams,  at  the  time  of  the 
difficulties  on  that  side.  He  was  employed  with  the 
surveyors  on  the  line.  Also  he  had  called  on  Daniel 
Webster  in  Boston,  at  the  time  of  his  Bunker  Hill 
oration. 

I  was  surprised  to  hear  him  say  that  he  liked  to  go  to 
Boston,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  &c.,  &c. ;  that  he  would 
like  to  live  there.  But  then,  as  if  relenting  a  little,  when 
he  thought  what  a  poor  figure  he  would  make  there,  he 
added,  "  I  suppose,  I  live  in  New  York,  I  be  poorest 
hunter,  I  expect."  He  understood  very  well  both  his 
superiority  and  his  inferiority  to  the  whites.  He  criti- 
cised the  people  of  the  United  States  as  compared  with 
other  nations,  but  the"  only  distinct  idea  with  which  he 
labored  was,  that  they  were  "very  strong,"  but,  like 
some  individuals,  "  too  fast."  He  must  have  the  credit 
of  saying  this  just  before  the  general  breaking  down  of 
railroads  and  banks.  He  had  a  great  idea  of  education, 
and  would  occasionally  break  out  into  such  expressions 
as  this,  "  Kademy  —  a-cad-e-my  —  good  thing  —  I  sup- 
pose they  usum  Fifth  Reader  there You  been  col- 
lege?" 

From  this  dead-water  the  outlines  of  the  mountains 
about  Ktaadn  were  visible.  The  top  of  Ktaadn  was 
concealed  by  a  cloud,  but  the  Souneunk  Mountains  were 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  203 

nearer,  and  quite  visible.  We  steered  across  the  north- 
west end  of  the  lake,  from  which  we  looked  down  south- 
southeast,  the  whole  length  to  Joe  Merry  Mountain,  seen 
over  its  extremity.  It  is  an  agreeable  change  to  cross  a 
lake,  after  you  have  been  shut  up  in  the  woods,  not  only 
on  account  of  the  greater  expanse  of  water,  but  also 
of  sky.  It  is  one  of  the  surprises  which  Nature  has  in 
store  for  the  traveller  in  the  forest.  To  look  down,  in 
this  case,  over  eighteen  miles  of  water,  was  liberating 
and  civilizing  even.  No  doubt,  the  short  distance  to 
which  you  can  see  in  the  woods,  and  the  general  twilight, 
would  at  length  react  on  the  inhabitants,  and  make  them 
salvages.  The  lakes  also  reveal  the  mountains,  and  give 
ample  scope  and  range  to  our  thought.  The  very  gulls 
which  we  saw  sitting  on  the  rocks,  like  white  specks,  or 
circling  about,  reminded  me  of  custom-house  officers. 
Already  there  were  half  a  dozen  log-huts  about  this  end 
of  the  lake,  though  so  far  from  a  road.  I  perceive  that 
in  these  woods  the  earliest  settlements  are,  for  various 
reasons,  clustering  about  the  lakes,  but  partly,  I  think, 
for  the  sake  of  the  neighborhood  as  the  oldest  clearings. 
They  are  forest  schools  already  established,  • —  great 
centres  of  light.  Water  is  a  pioneer  which  the  settler 
follows,  taking  advantage  of  its  improvements. 

Thus  far  only  I  had  been  before.  About  noon  we 
turned  northward,  up  a  broad  kind  of  estuary,  and  at  its 
northeast  corner  found  the  Caucomgomoc  River,  and 
after  going  about  a  mile  from  the  lake,  reached  the  Um- 
bazookskus,  which  comes  in  on  the  right  at  a  point  where 
the  former  river,  coming  from  the  west,  turns  short  to 
the  south.  Our  course  was  up  the  Umbazookskus,  but 
as  the  Indian  knew  of  a  good  camping-place,  that  is,  a 
cool  place  where  there  were  few  mosquitoes,  about  half  a 


204 


THE  MAINE  WOODS. 


mile  farther  up  the  Caucomgomoc,  we  went  thither.  The 
latter  river,  judging  from  the  map,  is  the  longer  and 
principal  stream,  and,  therefore,  its  name  must*  prevail 
below  the  junction.  So  quickly  we  changed  the  civiliz- 
ing sky  of  Chesuncook  for  the  dark  wood  of  the  Cau- 
comgomoc. On  reaching  the  Indian's  camping-ground, 
on  the  south  side,  where  the  bank  was  about  a  dozen  feet 
high,  I  read  on  the  trunk  of  a  fir-tree  blazed  by  an  axe 
an  inscription  in  charcoal  which  had  been  left  by  liim. 
It  was  surmounted  by  a  drawing  of  a  bear  paddling  a 
canoe,  which  he  said  was  the  sign  which  had  been  used 
by  his  family  always.  The  drawing,  though  rude,  could 
not  be  mistaken  for  anything  but  a  bear,  and  he  doubted 
my  ability  to  copy  it.  The  inscription  ran  thus,  verbatim 
et  literatim.  I  interline  the  English  of  his  Indian  as  he 
gave  it  to  me. 

[The  figure  of  a  bear  in  a  boat.] 

July  26, 

1853. 


Polls      start 
l«'a  olta 

for          Oldtown 
ouke        ni 
right       away, 
quambi 


^Y^':  1£*"/>^We  al° 
J*          ^^          ^j\&& 


July  15, 
1855. 

Niasoseb. 

He  added  now  below : — 

1857, 

July  26. 

Io.     Polls. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  205 

This  was  one  of  his  homes.  I  saw  where  he  had 
sometimes  stretched  his  moose-hides  on  the  opposite  or 
sunny  north  side  of  the  river,  where  there  was  a  narrow- 
meadow. 

After  we  had  selected  a  place  for  our  camp,  and  kin- 
dled our  fire,  almost  exactly  on  the  site  of  the  Indian's 
last  camp  here,  he,  looking  up,  observed,  "That  tree 
danger."  It  was  a  dead  part,  more  than  a  foot  in  diam- 
ter,  of  a  large  canoe-birch,  which  branched  at  the  ground. 
This  branch,  rising  thirty  feet  or  more,  slanted  directly 
over  the  spot  which  we  had  chosen  for  our  bed.  I  told 
him  to  try  it  with  his  axe ;  but  he  could  not  shake  it 
perceptibly,  and,  therefore,  seemed  inclined  to  disregard 
it,  and  my  companion  expressed  his  willingness  to  run 
the  risk.  But  it  seemed  to  me  that  we  should  be  fools 
to  lie  under  it,  for  though  the  lower  part  was  firm,  the 
"top,  Tor  aught  we  knew,  might  be  just  ready  to  fall,  and 
we  should  at  any  rate  be  very  uneasy  if  the  wind  arose 
in  the  night.  It  is  a  common  accident  for  men  camping 
in  the  woods  to  be  killed  by  a  falling  tree.  So  the  camp 
was  moved  to  the  other  side  of  the  fire. 

It  was,  as  usual,  a  damp  and  shaggy  forest,  that  Cau- 
comgomoc  one,  and  the  most  you  knew  about  it  was,  that 
on  this  side  it  stretched  toward  the  settlements,  and  on 
that  to  still  more  unfrequented  regions.  You  carried  so 
much  topography  in  your  mind  always,  —  and  sometimes 
it  seemed  to  make  a  considerable  difference  whether 
you  sat  or  lay  nearer  the  settlements,  or  farther  off,  than 
your  companions,  —  were  the  rear  or  frontier  man  of  the 
camp.  But  there  is  really  the  same  difference  between 
our  positions  wherever  we  may  be  camped,  and  some  are 
nearer  the  frontiers  on  feather-beds  in  the  towns  than 
others  on  fir-twigs  in  the  backwoods. 


206  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

The  Indian  said  that  the  Umbazookskus,  being  a  dead 
stream  with  broad  meadows,  was  a  good  place  for  moose, 
and  he  frequently  came  ajjmatieg  here,  being  out  alone 
three  weeks  or  more  from  Oldtown.  He  sometimes, 
also,  went  a-hunting  to  the  Seboois  Lakes,  taking  the 
stage,  with  his  gun  and  ammunition,  axe  and  blankets, 
hard  bread  and  pork,  perhaps  for  a  hundred  miles  of  the 
way,  and  jumped  off  at  the  wildest  place  on  the  road, 
where  he  was  at  once  at  home,  and  every  rod  was  a  tav- 
ern-site for  him.  Then,  after  a  short  journey  through 
the  woods,  he  would  build  a  spruce-bark  canoe  in  one 
day,  putting  but  few  ribs  into  it,  that  it  might  be  light, 
and  after  doing  his  hunting  with  it  on  the  lakes,  would 
return  with  his  furs  the  same  way  he  had  come.  Thus 
you  have  an  Indian  availing  himself  cunningly  of  the 
advantages  of  civilization,  without  losing  any  of  his 
woodcraft,  but  proving  himself  the  more  successful  hunter 
for  it. 

This  man  was  very  clever  and  quick  to  learn  anything 
in  his  line.  Our  tent  was  of  a  kind  new  to  him ;  but 
when  he  had  once  seen  it  pitched  it  was  surprising  how 
quickly  he  would  find  and  prepare  the  pole  and  forked 
stakes  to  pitch  it  with,  cutting  and  placing  them  right  the 
first  time,  though  I  am  sure  that  the  majority  of  white 
men  would  have  blundered  several  times. 

This  river  came  from  Caucomgomoc  Lake,  about  ten 
miles  farther  up.  Though  it  was  sluggish  here,  there 
were  falls  not  far  above  us,  and  we  saw  the  foam  from 
them  go  by  from  time  to  time.  The  Indian  said  that 
Caucomgomoc  meant  Big-gull  Lake,  (i.  e.  Herring-gull, 
I  suppose,)  gomoc  meaning  lake.  Hence  this  was  Cau- 
comgomoctook,  or  the  river  from  that  lake.  This  was  the 
Penobscot  Caucomgomoc-took  !  there  was  another  St. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     207 

John  one  not  far  north.  He  finds  the  eggs  of  this  gull, 
sometimes  twenty  together,  as  big  as  hen's  eggs,  on  rocky 
ledges  on  the  west  side  of  Millinocket  River,  for  instance, 
and  eats  them. 

Now  I  thought  I  would  observe  how  he  spent  his  Sun- 
day. While  I  and  my  companion  were  looking  about  at 
the  trees  and  river,  he  went  to  sleep.  Indeed,  he  im- 
proved every  opportunity  to  get  a  nap,  whatever  the  day. 

Rambling  about  the  woods  at  this  camp,  I  noticed  that 
they  consisted  chiefly  of  firs,  black  spruce,  and  some 
white,  red  maple,  canoe-birch,  and,  along  the  river,  the 
hoary  alder,  Alnus  incana.  I  name  them  in  the  order  of 
their  abundance.  The  Viburnum  nudum  was  a  common 
shrub,  and  of  smaller  plants,  there  were  the  dwarf-cornel, 
great  round-leaved  orchis,  abundant  and  in  bloom  (a 
greenish-white  flower  growing  in  little  communities), 
Uvularia  grandiflora,  whose  stem  tasted  like  a  cucumber, 
Pyrola  secunda,  apparently  the  commonest  Pyrola  in  those 
woods,  now  out  of  bloom,  Pyrola  ettiptica,  and  Chiogenes 
hispidula.  The  Clintonia  borealis,  with  ripe  berries,  was 
very  abundant,  and  perfectly  at  home  there.  Its  leaves, 
disposed  commonly  in  triangles  about  its  stem,  were  just 
as  handsomely  formed  and  green,  and  its  berries  as  blue 
and  glossy,  as  if  it  grew  by  some  botanist's  favorite  path. 

I  could  trace  the  outlines  of  large  birches  that  had 
fallen  long  ago,  collapsed  and  rotted  and  turned  to  soil, 
by  faint  yellowish-green  lines  of  feather-like  moss, 
eighteen  inches  wide  and  twenty  or  thirty  feet  long, 
crossed  by  other  similar  lines. 

I  heard  a  Maryland  yellow-throat's  midnight  strain, 
wood-thrush,  kingfisher  (tweezer  bird),  or  parti-colored 
warbler,  and  a  night-hawk.  I  also  heard  and  saw  red 
squirrels,  and  heard  a  bull-frog.  The  Indian  said  that 
he  heard  a  snake. 


208  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Wild  as  it  was,  it  was  hard  for  me  to  get  rid  of  the 
associations  of  the  settlements.  Any  steady  and  monot- 
onous sound,  to  which  I  did  not  distinctly  attend,  passed 
for  a  sound  of  human  industry.  The  waterfalls  which 
I  heard  were  not  without  their  dams  and  mills  to  my  im- 
agination, —  and  several  times  I  found  that  I  had  been  re- 
garding the  steady  rushing  sound  of  the  wind  from  over 
the  woods  beyond  the  rivers  as  that  of  a  train  of  cars,  — • 
the  cars  at  Quebec.  Our  minds  anywhere,  when  left  to 
themselves,  are  always  thus  busily  drawing  conclusions 
from  false  premises. 

I  asked  the  Indian  to  make  us  a  sugar-bowl  of  birch- 
bark,  which  he  did,  using  the  great  knife  which  dangled 
in  a  sheath  from  his  belt ;  but  the  bark  broke  at  the  cor- 
ners when  he  bent  it  up,  and  he  said  it  was  not  good ; 
that  there  was  a  great  difference  in  this  respect  between 
the  bark  of  one  canoe-birch  and  that  of  another,  i.  e.  one 
cracked  more  easily  than  another.  I  used  some  thin  and 
delicate  sheets  of  this  bark  which  he  split  and  cut,  in  my 
flower-book ;  thinking  it  would  be  good  to  separate  the 
dried  specimens  from  the  green. 

My  companion,  wishing  to  distinguish  between  the 
black  and  white  spruce,  asked  Polis  to  show  him  a  twig 
of  the  latter,  which  he  did  at  once,  together  with  the 
black ;  indeed,  he  could  distinguish  them  about  as  far  as 
he  could  see  them ;  but  as  the  two  twigs  appeared  very 
much  alike,  my  companion  asked  the  Indian  to  point  out 
the  difference ;  whereupon  the  latter,  taking  the  twigs,  in- 
stantly remarked,  as  he  passed  his  hand  over  them  succes- 
sively in  a  stroking  manner,  that  the  white  was  rough  (i.  e. 
the  needles  stood  up  nearly  perpendicular),  but  the  black 
smooth  (i.  e.  as  if  bent  or  combed  down).  This  was  an 
obvious  difference,  both  to  sight  and  touch.  However,  if  I 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BKANCH.  209 

remember  rightly,  this  would  not  serve  to  distinguish  the 
white  spruce  from  the  light-colored  variety  of  the  black. 

I  asked  him  to  let  me  see  him  get  some  black  spruce 
root,  and  make  some  thread.  Whereupon,  without  look- 
ing up  at  the  trees  overhead,  he  began  to  grub  in  the 
ground,  instantly  distinguishing  the  black  spruce  roots, 
and  cutting  off  a  slender  one,  three  or  four  feet  long,  and 
as  big  as  a  pipe-stem,  he  split  the  end  with  his  knife,  and 
taking  a  half  between  the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  each 
hand,  rapidly  separated  its  whole  length  into  two  equal 
semi-cylindrical  halves ;  then  giving  me  another  root,  he 
said,  "  You  try."  But  in  my  hands  it  immediately  ran 
off  one  side,  and  I  got  only  a  very  short  piece.  In  short, 
though  it  looked  very  easy,  I  found  that  there  was  a 
great  art  in  splitting  these  roots.  The  split  is  skilfully 
humored  by  bending  short  with  this  hand  or  that,  and  so 
kept  in  the  middle.  He  then  took  off  the  bark  from 
each  half,  pressing  a  short  piece  of  cedar  bark  against 
the  convex  side  with  both  hands,  while  he  drew  the  root 
upward  with  his  teeth.  An  Indian's  teeth  are  strong, 
and  I  noticed  that  he  used  his  often  where  we  should 
have  used  a  hand.  They  amounted  to  a  third  hand.  He 
thus  obtained,  in  a  moment,  a  very  neat,  tough,  and  flexi- 
ble string,  which  he  could  tie  into  a  knot,  or  make  into  a 
fish-line  even.  It  is  said  that  in  Norway  and  Sweden  the 
roots  of  the  Norway  spruce  (Abies  excelsa)  are  used  in 
the  same  way  for  the  same  purpose.  He  said  that  you 
would  be  obliged  to  give  half  a  dollar  for  spruce  root 
enough  for  a  canoe,  thus  prepared.  He  had  hired  the 
sewing  of  his  own  canoe,  though  he  made  all  the  rest. 
The  root  in  his  canoe  was  of  a  pale  slate  color,  probably 
acquired  by  exposure  to  the  weather,  or  perhaps  from 
being  boiled  in  water  first. 

N 


210       .  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

He  had  discovered  the  day  before  that  his  canoe  leaked 
a  little,  and  said  that  it  was  owing  to  stepping  into  it 
violently,  which  forced  the  water  under  the  edge  of  the 
horizontal  seams  on  the  side.  I  asked  him  where  he 
would  get  pitch  to  mend  it  with,  for  they  commonly  use 
hard-pitch,  obtained  of  the  whites  at  Oldtown.  He  said 
that  he  could  make  something  very  similar,  and  equally 
good,  not  of  spruce  gum,  or  the  like,  but  of  material 
which  we  had  with  us ;  and  he  wished  me  to  guess  what. 
But  I  could  not,  and  he  would  not  tell  me,  though  he 
showed  me  a  ball  of  it  when  made,  as  big  as  a  pea,  and 
like  black  pitch,  saying,  at  last,  that  there  were  some 
things  which  a  man  did  not  tell  even  his  wife.  It  may 
have  been  his  own  discovery.  In  Arnold's  expedition 
the  pioneers  used  for  their  canoe  "the  turpentine  of  the 
pine,  and  the  scrapings  of  the  pork-bag." 

Being  curious  to  see  what  kind  of  fishes  there  were 
in  this  dark,  deep,  sluggish  river,  I  cast  in  my  line  just 
before  night,  and  caught  several  small  somewhat  yellow- 
ish sucker-like  fishes,  which  the  Indian  at  once  rejected, 
saying  that  they  were  Michigan  fish  (i.  e.  soft  and  stink- 
ing fish)  and  good  for  nothing.  Also,  he  would  not 
touch  a  pout,  which  I  caught,  and  said  that  neither 
Indians  nor  whites  thereabouts  ever  ate  them,  which  I 
thought  was  singular,  since  they  are  esteemed  in  Massa- 
chusetts, and  he  had  told  me  that  he  ate  hedgehogs, 
loons,  &c.  But  he  said  that  some  small  silvery  fishes, 
which  I  called  white  chivin,  which  were  similar  in  size 
and  form  to  the  first,  were  the  best  fish  in  the  Penobscot 
waters,  and  if  I  would  toss  them  up  the  bank  to  him,  he 
would  cook  them  for  me.  After  cleaning  them,  not  very 
carefully,  leaving  the  heads  on,  he  laid  them  on  the  coals 
and  so  broiled  them. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  211 

Keturning  from  a  short  walk,  he  brought  a  vine  in  his 
hand,  and  asked  me  if  I  knew  what  it  was,  saying  that 
it  made  the  best  tea  of  anything  in  the  woods.  It  was 
the  Creeping  Snowberry  (Chiogenes  hispidula),  which 
was  quite  common  there,  its  berries  just  grown.  He 
called  it  cowosnebagosar,  which  name  implies  that  it 
grows  where  old  prostrate  trunks  have  collapsed  and 
rotted.  So  we  determined  to  have  some  tea  made  of 
this  to-night.  It  had  a  slight  checkerberry  flavor,  and 
we  both  agreed  that  it  was  really  better  than  the  black 
tea  which  we  had  brought.  We  thought  it  quite  a  dis- 
covery, and  that  it  might  well  be  dried,  and  sold  in  the 
shops.  I,  for  one,  however,  am  not  an  old  tea-drinker, 
and  cannot  speak  with  authority  to  others.  It  would 
have  been  particularly  good  to  carry  along  for  a  cold 
drink  during  the  day,  the  water  thereabouts  being  inva- 
riably warm.  The  Indian  said  that  they  also  used  for 
tea  a  certain  herb  which  grew  in  low  ground,  which  he 
did  not  find  there,  and  Ledum,  or  Labrador  tea,  which  I 
have  since  found  and  tried  in  Concord ;  also  hemlock 
leaves,  the  last  especially  in  the  winter,  when  the  other 
plants  were  covered  with  snow  ;  and  various  other  things  ; 
but  he  did  not  approve  of  arbor  wittz,  which  I  said  I  had 
drunk  in  those  woods.  We  could  have  had  a  new  kind 
of  tea  every  night. 

Just  before  night  we  saw  a  musquash,  (he  did  not  say 
muskrat,)  the  only  one  we  saw  in  this  voyage,  swimming 
downward  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream.  The 
Indian,  wishing  to  get  one  to  eat,  hushed  us,  saying, 
"  Stop,  me  call  'em " ;  and  sitting  flat  on  the  bank,  he 
began  to  make  a  curious  squeaking,  wiry  sound  with  his 
lips,  exerting  himself  considerably.  I  was  greatly  sur- 
prised, —  thought  that  I  had  at  last  got  into  the  wilder- 


212  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

ness,  and  that  he  was  a  wild  man  indeed,  to  be  talking 
to  a  musquash- !  I  did  not  know  which  of  the  two  was 
the  strangest  to  me.  He  seemed  suddenly  to  have  quite 
forsaken  humanity,  and  gone  over  to  the  musquash  side. 
The  musquash,  however,  as  near  as  I  could  see,  did  not 
turn  aside,  though  he  may  have  hesitated  a  little,  and  the 
Indian  said  that  he  saw  our  fire ;  but  it  was  evident  that 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  the  musquash  to  him,  as  he 
said.  An  acquaintance  of  mine  who  was  hunting  moose 
in  those  woods  a  month  after  this,  tells  me  that  his  Indian 
in  this  way  repeatedly  called  the  musquash  within  reach 
of  his  paddle  in  the  moonlight,  and  struck  at  them. 

The  Indian  said  a  particularly  long  prayer  this  Sun- 
day evening,  as  if  to  atone  for  working  in  the  morning. 

MONDAY,  July  27. 

Having  rapidly  loaded  the  canoe,  which  the  Indian 
always  carefully  attended  to,  that  it  might  be  well 
trimmed,  and  each  having  taken  a  look,  as  usual,  to  see 
that  nothing  was  left,  we  set  out  again,  descending  the 
Caucomgomoc,-  and  turning  northeasterly  up  the  Utnba- 
zookskus.  This  name,  the  Indian  said,  meant  Much 
Meadow  River.  We  found  it  a  very  meadowy  stream, 
and  dead  water,  and  now  very  wide  on  account  of  the 
rains,  though,  he  said,  it  was  sometimes  quite  narrow. 
The  space  between  the  woods,  chiefly  bare  meadow,  was 
from  fifty  to  two  hundred  rods  in  breadth,  and  is  a  rare 
place  for  moose.  It  reminded  me  of  the  Concord ;  and 
what  increased  the  resemblance,  was  one  old  musquash 
house  almost  afloat. 

In  the  water  on  the  meadows  grew  sedges,  wool-grass, 
the  common  blue-flag  abundantly,  its  flower  just  showing 
itself  above  the  high  water,  as  if  it  were  a  blue  water- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  213 

lily,  and  higher  in  the  meadows  a  great  many  clumps  of 
a  peculiar  narrow-leaved  willow  (Salix  petiolaris),  which 
is  common  in  our  river  meadows.  It  was  the  prevailing 
one  here,  and  the  Indian  said  that  the  musquash  ate 
much  of  it;  and  here  also  grew  the  red  osier  (Cornus 
stolonifera),  its  large  fruit  now  whitish. 

Though  it  was  still  early  in  the  morning,  we  saw  night- 
hawks  circling  over  the  meadow,  and  as  usual  heard  the 
Pepe  (Muscicapa  Cooperi),  which  is  one  of  the  pre- 
vailing birds  in  these  woods,  and  the  robin. 

It  was  unusual  for  the  woods  to  be  so  distant  from  the 
shore,  and  there  was  quite  an  echo  from  them,  but  when 
I  was  shouting  in  order  to  awake  it,  the  Indian  reminded 
me  that  I  should  scare  the  moose,  which  he  was  looking 
out  for,  and  which  we  all  wanted  to  see.  The  word  for 
echo  was  Pockadunkquaywayle. 

A  broad  belt  of  dead  larch-trees  along  the  distant  edge 
of  the  meadow,  against  the  forest  on  each  side,  increased 
the  usual  wildness  of  the  scenery.  The  Indian  called 
these  juniper,  and  said  that  they  had  been  killed  by  the 
back  water  caused  by  the  dam  at  the  outlet  of  Chesun- 
cook  Lake,  some  twenty  miles  distant.  I  plucked  at  the 
water's  edge  the  Asclepias  incarnata,  with  quite  hand- 
some flowers,  a  brighter  red  than  our  variety  (the  pul- 
chra).  It  was  the  only  form  of  it  which  I  saw  there. 

Having  paddled  several  miles  up  the  Umbazookskus, 
it  suddenly  contracted  to  a  mere  brook,  narrow  and 
swift,  the  larches  and  other  trees  approaching  the  bank 
and  leaving  no  open  meadow,  and  we  landed  to  get  a 
black-spruce  pole  for  pushing  against  the  stream.  This 
was  the  first  occasion  for  one.  The  one  selected  was  quite 
slender,  cut  about  ten  feet  long,  merely  whittled  to  a  point, 
and  the  bark  shaved  off.  The  stream,  though  narrow 


214  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

and  swift,  was  still  deep,  with  a  muddy  bottom,  as  I 
proved  by  diving  to  it.  Beside  the  plants  which  I  have 
mentioned,  I  observed  on  the  bank  here  the  Salix  cor- 
data  and  rostrata.  Ranunculus  recurvatus,  and  Rubus 
triflorus  with  ripe  fruit. 

While  we  were  thus  employed,  two  Indians  in  a  canoe 
hove  in  sight  round  the  bushes,  coming  down  stream. 
Our  Indian  knew  one  of  them,  an  old  man,  and  fell  into 
conversation  with  him  in  Indian.  He  belonged  at  the 
foot  of  Moosehead.  The  other  was  of  another  tribe. 
They  were  returning  from  hunting.  I  asked  the  younger 
if  they  had  seen  any  moose,  to  which  he  said  no  ;  but  I, 
seeing  the  moose-hides  sticking  out  from  a  great  bundle 
made  with  their  blankets  in  the  middle  of  the  canoe, 
added,  "  Only  their  hides."  As  he  was  a  foreigner,  he 
may  have  wished  to  deceive  me,  for  it  is  against  the  law 
for  white  men  and  foreigners  to  kill  moose  in  Maine 
at  this  season.  But,  perhaps,  he  need  not  have  been 
alarmed,  for  the  moose-wardens  are  not  very  particular. 
I  heard  quite  directly  of  one,  who  being  asked  by  a  white 
man  going  into  the  woods  what  he  would  say  if  he  killed 
a  moose,  answered,  "  If  you  bring  me  a  quarter  of  it,  I 
guess  you  won't  be  troubled."  His  duty  being,  as  he  said, 
only  to  prevent  the  "  indiscriminate  "  slaughter  of  them 
for  their  hides.  I  suppose  that  he  would  consider  it  an 
indiscriminate  slaughter  when  a  quarter  was  not  re- 
served for  himself.  Such  are  the  perquisites  of  this 
office. 

We  continued  along  through  the  most  extensive  larch 
wood  which  I  had  seen,  —  tall  and  slender  trees  with  fan- 
tastic branches.  But  though  this  was  the  prevailing  tree 
here,  I  do  not  remember  that  we  saw  any  afterward. 
You  do  not  find  straggling  trees  of  this  species  here  and 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  215 

there  throughout  the  wood,  but  rather  a  little  forest  of 
them.  The  same  is  the  case  with  the  white  and  red 
pines,  and  some  other  trees,  greatly  to  the  convenience 
of  the  lumberer.  They  are  of  a  social  habit,  growing  in 
"  veins,"  "  clumps,"  "  groups,"  or  '^communities,"  as  the 
explorers  call  them,  distinguishing  them  far  away,  from 
the  top  of  a  hill  or  a  tree,  the  white  pines  towering  above 
the  surrounding  forest,  or  else  they  form  extensive  forests 
by  themselves.  I  would  have  liked  to  come  across  a 
large  community  of  pines,  which  had  never  been  invaded 
by  the  lumbering  army. 

We  saw  some  fresh  moose  tracks  along  the  shore,  but 
the  Indian  said  that  the  moose  were  not  driven  out  of  the 
woods  by  the  flies,  as  usual  at  this  season,  on  account  of 
the  abundance  of  water  everywhere.  The  stream  was 
only  from  one  and  one  half  to  three  rods  wide,  quite 
winding,  with  occasional  small  islands,  meadows,  and 
some  very  swift  and  shallow  places.  "When  we  came  to 
an  island,  the  Indian  never  hesitated  which  side  to  take, 
as  if  the  current  told  him  which  was  the  shortest  and 
deepest.  It  was  lucky  for  us  that  the  water  was  so  high. 
We  had  to  walk  but  once  on  this  stream,  carrying  a  part 
of  the  load,  at  a  swift  and  shallow  reach,  while  he  got  up 
with  the  canoe,  not  being  obliged  to  take  out,  though  he 
said  it  was  very  strong  water.  Once  or  twice  we  passed 
the  red  wreck  of  a  bateau  which  had  been  stove  some 
spring. 

While  making  this  portage  I  saw  many  splendid  speci- 
mens of  the  great  purple-fringed  orchis,  three  feet  high. 
It  is  remarkable  that  such  delicate  flowers  should  here 
adorn  these  wilderness  paths. 

Having  resumed  our  seats  in  the  canoe,  I  felt  the  In- 
dian wiping  my  back,  which  he  had  accidentally  spat 


216  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

upon.  He  said  it  was  a  sign  that  I  was  going  to  be 
married. 

The  Umbazookskus  River  is  called  ten  miles  long. 
Having  polled  up  the  narrowest  point  some  three  or  four 
miles,  the  next  opening  in  the  sky  was  over  Umbazook- 
skus Lake,  which  we  suddenly  entered  about  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  forenoon.  It  stretches  northwesterly  four 
or  five  miles,  with  what  the  Indian  called  the  Caucom- 
gomoc  Mountain  seen  far  beyond  it.  It  was  an  agree- 
able change. 

This  lake  was  very  shallow  a  long  distance  from  the 
shore,  and  I  saw  stone  heaps  on  the  bottom,  like  those 
in  the  Assabet  at  home.  The  canoe  ran  into  one.  The 
Indian  thought  that  they  were  made  by  an  eel.  Joe 
Aitteon  in  1853  thought  that  they  were  made  by  chub. 
We  crossed  the  southeast  end  of  the  lake  to  the  carry 
into  Mud  Pond. 

Umbazookskus  Lake  is  the  head  of  the  Penobsc^t 
in  this  direction,  and  Mud  Pond  is  the  nearest  bend  of 
the  Allegash,  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  the  St.  John. 
Hodge,  who  went  through  this  way  to  the  St.  Lawrence 
in  the  service  of  the  State,  calls  the  portage  here  a  mile 
and  three  quarters  long,  and  states  that  Mud  Pond  has 
been  found  to  be  fourteen  feet  higher  than  Umbazook- 
skus Lake.  As  the  west  branch  of  the  Penobscot  at  the 
Moosehead  carry  is  considered  about  twenty-five  feet 
lower  than  Moosehead  Lake,  it  appears  that  the  Penob- 
scot in  the  upper  part  of  its  course  runs  in  a  broad  and 
shallow  valley,  between  the  Kennebec  and  St.  Johns, 
and  lower  than  either  of  them,  though,  judging  from  the 
map,  you  might  expect  it  to  be  the  highest. 

Mud  Pond  is  about  half-way  from  Umbazookskus  to 
Chamberlain  Lake,  into  which  it  empties,  and  to  which 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  217 

we  were  bound.  The  Indian  said  that  this  was  the 
•wettest  carry  in  the  State,  and  as  the  season  was  a  very 
wet  one,  we  anticipated  an  unpleasant  walk.  As  usual 
he  made  one  large  bundle  of  the  pork-keg,  cooking  uten- 
sils, and  other  loose  traps,  by  tying  them  up  in  his  blan- 
ket. We  should  be  obliged  to  go  over  the  carry  twice, 
and  our  method  was  to  carry  one  half  part  way,  and 
then  go  back  for  the  rest. 

Our  path  ran  close  by  the  door  of  a  log-hut  in  a  clear- 
ing at  this  end  of  the  carry,  which  the  Indian,  who  alone 
entered  it,  found  to  be  occupied  by  a  Canadian  and  his 
family,  and  that  the  man  had  been  blind  for  a  year.  He 
seemed  peculiarly  unfortunate  to  be  taken  blind  there, 
where  there  were  so  few  eyes  to  see  for  him.  He  could 
not  even  be  led  out  of  that  country  by  a  dog,  but  must 
be  taken  down  the  rapids  as  passively  as  a  barrel  of 
flour.  This  was  the  first  house  above  Chesuncook,  and 
the  last  on  the  Penobscot  waters,  and  was  built  here,  no 
doubt,  because  it  was  the  route  of  the  lumberers  in  the 
winter  and  spring. 

After  a  slight  ascent  from  the  lake  through  the  springy 
soil  of  the  Canadian's  clearing,  we  entered  on  a  level  and 
very  wet  and  rocky  path  through  the  universal  dense 
evergreen  forest,  a  loosely  paved  gutter  merely,  where 
we  went  leaping  from  rock  to  rock  and  from  side  to  side, 
in  the  vain  attempt  to  keep  out  of  the  water  and  mud. 
We  concluded  that  it  was  yet  Penobscot  water,  though 
there  was  no  flow  to  it.  It  was  on  this  carry  that  the 
white  hunter  whom  I  met  in  the  stage,  as  he  told  me, 
had  shot  two  bears  a  few  months  before.  They  stood 
directly  in  the  path,  and  did  not  turn  out  for  him.  They 
might  be  excused  for  not  turning  out  there,  or  only  tak- 
ing the  right  as  the  law  directs.  He  said  that  at  this 

10 


218  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

season  bears  were  found  on  the  mountains  and  hillsides, 
in  search  of  berries,  and  were  apt  to  be  saucy,  —  that 
we  might  come  across  them  up*  Trout  Stream ;  and  he 
added,  what  I  hardly  credited,  that  many  Indians  slept 
in  their  canoes,  not  daring  to  sleep  on  land,  on  account 
of  them. 

Here  commences  what  was  called,  twenty  years  ago, 
the  best  timber  land  in  the  State.  This  very  spot  was 
described  as  "  covered  with  the  greatest  abundance  of 
pine,"  but  now  this  appeared  to  me,  comparatively,  an 
uncommon  tree  there,  —  and  yet  you  did  not  see  where 
any  more  could  have  stood,  amid  the  dense  growth  of 
cedar,  fir,  &c.  It  was  then  proposed  to  cut  a  canal  from 
lake  to  lake  here,  but  the  outlet  was  finally  made  farther 
east,  at  Telos  Lake,  as  we  shall  see. 

The  Indian  with  his  canoe  soon  disappeared  before 
us ;  but  erelong  he  came  back  and  told  us  to  take  a  path 
which  turned  off  westward,  it  being  better  walking,  and, 
at  my  suggestion,  he  agreed  to  leave  a  bough  in  the 
regular  carry  at  that  place,  that  we  might  not  pass  it  by 
mistake.  Thereafter,  he  said,  we  were  to  keep  the  main 
path,  and  he  added,  "  You  see  'em  my  tracks."  But  I 
had  not  much  faith  that  we  could  distinguish  his  tracks, 
since  others  had  passed  over  the  carry  within  a  few 
days. 

We  turned  off  at  the  right  place,  but  were  soon  con- 
fused by  numerous  logging-paths,  coming  into  the  one 
we  were  on,  by  which  lumberers  had  been  to  pick  out 
those  pines  which  I  have  mentioned.  However,  we  kept 
what  we  considered  the  main  path,  though  it  was  a  wind- 
ing one,  and  in  this,  at  long  intervals,  we  distinguished  a 
faint  trace  of  a  footstep.  This,  though  comparatively 
unworn,  was  at  first  a  better,  or,  at  least,  a  drier  road, 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     219 

than  the  regular  carry  which  we  had  left.  It  led  through 
an  arbor-vitse  wilderness  of  the  grimmest  character. 
The  great  fallen  and  rotting  trees  had  been  cut  through 
and  rolled  aside,  and  their  huge  trunks  abutted  on  the 
path  on  each  side,  while  others  still  lay  across  it  two 
or  three  feet  high.  It  was  impossible  for  us  to  discern 
the  Indian's  trail  in  the  elastic  moss,  which,  like  a  thick 
carpet,  covered  every  rock  and  fallen  tree,  as  well  as  the 
earth.  Nevertheless,  I  did  occasionally  detect  the  track 
of  a  man,  and  I  gave  myself  some  credit  for  it.  I  carried 
my  whole  load  at  once,  a  heavy  knapsack,  and  a  large 
India-rubber  bag,  containing  our  bread  and  a  blanket, 
swung  on  a  paddle ;  in  all,  about  sixty  pounds  ;  but  my 
companion  preferred  to  make  two  journeys,  by  short 
stages,  while  I  waited  for  him.  We  could  not  be  sure 
that  we  were  not  depositing  our  loads  each  time  farther 
off  from  the  true  path. 

As  I  sat  waiting  for  my  companion,  he  would  seem  to 
be  gone  a  long  time,  and  I  had  ample  opportunity  to 
make  observations  on  the  forest.  I  now  first  began  to 
be  seriously  "molested  by  the  black-fly,  a  very  small  but 
perfectly  formed  fly  of  that  color,  about  one  tenth  of  an 
inch  long,  which  I  first  felt,  and  then  saw,  in  swarms 
about  me,  as  I  sat  by  a  wider  and  more  than  usually 
doubtful  fork  in  this  dark  forest-path.  The  hunters  tell 
bloody  stories  about  them, — how  they  settle  in  a  ring  about 
your  neck,  before  you  know  it,  and  are  wiped  off  in 
great  numbers  with  your  blood.  But  remembering  that 
I  had  a  wash  in  my  knapsack,  prepared  by  a  thoughtful 
hand  in  Bangor,  I  made  haste  to  apply  it  to  my  face 
and  hands,  and  was  glad  to  find  it  effectual,  as  long  as  it 
was  fresh,  or  for  twenty  minutes,  not  only  against  black- 
flies,  but  all  the  insects  that  molested  us.  They  would 


220  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

not  alight  on  the  part  thus  defended.  It  was  composed 
of  sweet-oil  and  oil  of  turpentine,  with  a  little  oil  of 
spearmint,  and  camphor.  However,  I  finally  concluded 
that  the  remedy  was  worse  than  the  disease.  It  was  so 
disagreeable  and  inconvenient  to  have  your  face  and 
hands  covered  with  such  a  mixture. 

Three  large  slate-colored  birds  of  the  jay  genus  (  Gar- 
rulus  Canadensis),  the  Canada-jay,  moose-bird,  meat-bird, 
or  what  not,  came  flitting  silently  and  by  degrees  toward 
me,  and  hopped  down  the  limbs  inquisitively  to  within 
seven  or  eight  feet.  They  were  more  clumsy  and  not 
nearly  so  handsome  as  the  blue-jay.  Fish-hawks,  from 
the~iake,  uttered  their  sharp  whistling  notes  low  over  the 
top  of  the  forest  near  me,  as  if  they  were  anxious  about 
a  nest  there. 

After  I  had  sat  there  some  time,  I  noticed  at  this  fork 
in  the  path  a  tree  which  had  been  blazed,  and  the  letters 
"  Chamb.  L."  written  on  it  with  red  chalk.  This  I  knew 
to  mean  Chamberlain  Lake.  So  I  concluded  that  on  the 
whole  we  were  on  the  right  course,  though  as  we  had 
come  nearly  two  miles,  and  saw  no  signs  of  Mud  Pond, 
I  did  harbor  the  suspicion  that  we  might  be  on  a  direct 
course  to  Chamberlain  Lake,  leaving  out  Mud  Pond. 
This  I  found  by  my  map  would  be  about  five  miles  north- 
easterly, and  I  then  took  the  bearing  by  my  compass. 

My  companion  having  returned  with  his  bag,  and  also 
defended  his  face  and  hands  with  the  insect-wash,  we  set 
forward  again.  The  walking  rapidly  grew  worse,  and 
the  path  more  indistinct,  and  at  length,  after  passing 
through  a  patch .  of  calla  palustris,  still  abundantly  in 
bloom,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  more  open  and  regular 
swamp,  made  less  passable  than  ordinary  by  the  unusual 
wetness  of  the  season.  We  sank  a  foot  deep  in  water 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  221 

and  mud  at  every  step,  and  sometimes  up  to  our  knees, 
and  the  trail  was  almost  obliterated,  being  no  more  than 
that  a  musquash  leaves  in  similar  places,  when  he  parts 
the  floating  sedge.  In  fact,  it  probably  was  a  musquash 
trail  in  some  places.  We  concluded  that  if  Mud  Pond 
was  as  muddy  as  the  approach  to  it  was  wet,  it  certainly 
deserved  its  name.  It  would  have  been  amusing  to 
behold  the  dogged  and  deliberate  pace  at  which  we 
entered  that  swamp,  without  interchanging  a  word,  as  if 
determined  to  go  through  it,  though  it  should  come  up 
to  our  necks.  Having  penetrated  a  considerable  distance 
into  this,  and  found  a  tussuck  on  which  we  could  deposit 
our  loads,  though  there  was  no  plaoe  to  sit,  my  com- 
panion went  back  for  the  rest  of  his  pack.  I  had  thought 
to  observe  on  this  carry  when  we  crossed  the  dividing 
line  between  the  Penobscot  and  St.  John,  but  as  my  feet 
had  hardly  been  out  of  water  the  whole  distance,  and  it 
was  all  level  and  stagnant,  I  began  to  despair  of  finding 
it.  I  remembered  hearing  a  good  deal  about  the  "  high- 
lands" dividing  the  waters  of  the  Penobscot  from  those 
of  the  St.  John,  as  well  as  the  St.  Lawrence,  at  the  time 
of  the  northeast  boundary  dispute,  and  I  observed  by 
my  map,  that  the  line  claimed  by  Great  Britain  as  the 
boundary  prior  to  1842  passed  between  TJmbazookskus 
Lake  and  Mud  Pond,  so  that  we  had  either  crossed  or 
were  then  on  it.  These,  then,  according  to  her  inter- 
pretation of  the  treaty  of  '83,  were  the  "  highlands  which 
divide  those  rivers  that  empty  themselves  into  the  St. 
Lawrence  from  those  which  fall  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean." 
Truly  an  interesting  spot  to  stand  on,  — r  if  that  were  it,  — 
though  you  could  not  sit  down  there.  I  thought  that  if 
the  commissioners  themselves,  and  the  king  of  Holland 
with  them,  had  spent  a  few  days  here,  with  their  packs 


222  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

upon  their  backs,  looking  for  that  "  highland,"  they  would 
have  had  an  interesting  time,  and  perhaps  it  would  have 
modified  their  views  of  the  question  somewhat.  The 
king  of  Holland  would  have  been  in  his  element.  Such 
were  m y  meditations  while  my  companion  was  gone  back 
for  his  bag. 

It  was  a  cedar  swamp,  through  which  the  peculiar 
note  of  the  white-throated  sparrow  rang  loud  and  clear. 
There  grew  the  side-saddle  flower,  Labrador  tea,  Kal- 
mia  glauca,  and,  what  was  new  to  me,  the  Low  Birch  (Be- 
tula  pumila),  a  little  round-leafed  shrub,  two  or  three  feet 
high  only.  We  thought  to  name  this  swamp  after  the 
latter. 

After  a  long  while  my  companion  came  back,  and  the 
Indian  with  him.  We  had  taken  the  wrong  road,  and 
the  Indian  had  lost  us.  He  had  very  wisely  gone  bacli 
to  the  Canadian's  camp,  and  asked  him  which  way  we 
had  probably  gone,  since  he  could  better  understand  the 
ways  of  white  men,  and  he  told  him  correctly  that  we 
had  undoubtedly  taken  the  supply  road  to  Chamberlain 
Lake  (slender  supplies  they  would  get  over  such  a  road 
at  this  season).  The  Indian  was  greatly  surprised  that 
we  should  have  taken  what  he  called  a  "  tow  "  (i.  e.  tote 
or  toting  or  supply)  road,  instead  of  a  carry  path, — 
that  we  had  not  followed  his  tracks,  —  said  it  was 
"  strange,"  and  evidently  thought  little  of  our  woodcraft. 

Having  held  a  consultation,  and  eaten  a  mouthful  of 
bread,  we  concluded  that  it  would,  perhaps,  be  nearer  for 
us  two  now  to  keep  on  to  Chamberlain  Lake,  omitting  Mud 
Pond,  than  to  go  back  and  start,  anew  for  the  last  place, 
though  the  Indian  had  never  been  through  this  way,  and 
knew  nothing  about  it.  In  the  meanwhile  he  would  go 
back  and  finish  carrying  over  his  canoe  and  bundle  to 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  223 

Mud  Pond,  cross  that,  and  go  down  its  outlet  and  up 
Chamberlain  Lake,  and  trust  to  meet  us  there  before 
night.  It  was  now  a  little  after  noon.  He  supposed 
that  the  water  in  which  we  stood  had  flowed  back  from 
Mud  Pond,  which  could  not  be  far  off  eastward,  but  was 
unapproachable  through  the  dense  cedar  swamp. 

Keeping  on,  we  were  erelong  agreeably  disappointed 
by  reaching  firmer  ground,  and  we  crossed  a  ridge  where 
the  path  was  more  distinct,  but  there  was  never  any  out- 
look over  the  forest.  While  descending  the  last,  I  saw 
many  specimens  of  the  great  round-leaved  orchis,  of  large 
size ;  one  which  I  measured  had  leaves,  as  usual,  flat  on 
the  ground,  nine  and  a  half  inches  long,  and  nine  wide, 
and  was  two  feet  high.  The  dark,  damp  wilderness  is 
favorable  to  some  of  these  orchidaceous  plants,  though 
they  are  too  delicate  for  cultivation.  I  also  saw  the 
swamp  gooseberry  (Ribes  lacustre),  with  green  fruit,  and 
in  all  the  low  ground,  where  it  was  not  too  wet,  the  Ru- 
bus  triflorus  in  fruit.  At  one  place  I  heard  a  very  clear 
and  piercing  note  from  a  small  hawk,  like  a  single  note 
from  a  white-throated  sparrow,  only  very  much  louder, 
as  he  dashed  through  the  tree-tops  over  mj  head.  I 
wondered  that  he  allowed  himself  to  be  disturbed  by  our 
presence,  since  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  easily  find 
his  nest  again  himself  in  that  wilderness.  We  also  saw 
and  heard  several  times  the  red  squirrel,  and  often,  as 
before  observed,  the  bluish  scales  of  the  fir  cones  which 
it  had  left  on  a  rock  or  fallen  tree.  This,  according  to 
the  Indian,  is  the  only  squirrel  found  in  those  woods,  ex- 
cept a  very  few  striped  ones.  It  must  have  a  solitary 
time  in  that  dark  evergreen  forest,  where  there  is  so  little 
life,  seventy-five  miles  from  a  road  as  we  had  come.  I 
wondered  how  he  could  call  any  particular  tree  there  his 


224  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

home ;  and  yet  he  would  run  up  the  stem  of  one  out  of  the 
myriads,  as  if  it  were  an  old  road  to  him*  How  can  a 
hawk  ever  find  him  there  ?  I  fancied  that  he  must  be 
glad  to  see  us,  though  he  did  seem  to  chide  us.  One  of 
those  sombre  fir  and  spruce  woods  is  not  complete  unless 
you  hear  from  out  its  cavernous  mossy  and  twiggy 
recesses  his  fine  alarum,  —  his  spruce  voice,  like  the 
working  of  the  sap  through  some  crack  in  a  tree,  —  the 
working  of  the  spruce-beer.  Such  an  impertinent  fellow 
would  occasionally  try  to  alarm  the  wood  about  me. 
"  0,"  said  I,  "  I  am  well  acquainted  with  your  family,  I 
know  your  cousins  in  Concord  very  well.  Guess  the 
mail 's  irregular  in  these  parts,  and  you  'd  like  to  hear 
from  'em."  But  my  overtures  were  vain,  for  he  would 
withdraw  by  his  aerial  turnpikes  into  a  more  distant  cedar- 
top,  and  spring  his  rattle  again. 

We  then  entered  another  swamp,  at  a  necessarily  slow 
pace,  where  the  walking  was  worse  than  ever,  not  only 
on  account  of  the  water,  but  the  fallen  timber,  which 
often  obliterated  the  indistinct  trail  entirely.  The  fallen,, 
trees  were  so  numerous,  that  for  long  distances  the  route 
was  through  a  succession  of  small  yards,  where  we 
climbed  over  fences  as  high  as  our  heads,  down  into  water 
often  up  to  our  knees,  and  then  over  another  fence  into  a 
second  yard,  and  so  on ;  and  going  back  for  his  bag  my 
companion  once  lost  his  way  and  came  back  without  it. 
In  many  places  the  canoe  would  have  run  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  fallen  timber.  Again  it  would  be  more 
open,  but  equally  wet,  too  wet  for  trees  to  grow,  and  no 
place  to  sit  down.  It  was  a  mossy  swamp,  which  it  re- 
quired the  long  legs  of  a  moose  to  traverse,  and  it  is  very 
likely  that  we  scared  some  of  them  in  our  transit,  though 
we  saw  none.  It  was  ready  to  echo  the  growl  of  a  bear, 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  225 

the  howl  of  a  wolf,  or  the  scream  of  a  panther;  but 
when  you  get  fairly  into  the  middle  of  one  of  these  grim 
forests,  you  are  surprised  to  find  that  the  larger  inhabit- 
ants are  not  at  home  commonly,  but  have  left  only  a  puny 
red  squirrel  to  bark  at  you.  Generally  speaking,  a  howl- 
ing wilderness  does  not  howl :  it  is  the  imagination  of 
the  traveller  that  does  the  howling.  I  did,  however,  see 
one  dead  porcupine ;  perhaps  he  had  succumbed  to  the 
difficulties  of  the  way.  These  bristly  fellows  are  a  very 
suitable  small  fruit  of  such  unkempt  wildernesses. 

Making  a  logging-road  in  the  Maine  woods  is  called 
"  swamping  it,"  and  they  who  do  the  work  are  called 
"  swampers."  I  now  perceived  the  fitness  of  the  term. 
This  was  the  most  perfectly  swamped  of  all  the  roads  I 
ever  saw.  Nature  must  have  co-operated  with  art  here. 
However,  I  suppose  they  would  tell  you  that  this  name 
took  its  origin  from  the  fact  that  the  chief  work  of  road- 
makers  in  those  woods  is  to  make  the  swamps  passable. 
We  came  to  a  stream  where  the  bridge,  which  had  been 
made  of  logs  tied  together  with  cedar  bark,  had  been 
broken  up,  and  we  got  over  as  we  could.  This  proba- 
bly emptied  into  Mud  Pond,  and  perhaps  the  Indian 
might  have  come  up  it  and  taken  us  in  there  if  he  had 
known  it.  Such  as  it  was,  this  ruined  bridge  was  the 
chief  evidence  that  we  were  on  a  path  of  any  kind. 

We  then  crossed  another  low  rising  ground,  and  I, 
who  wore  shoes,  had  an  opportunity  to  wring  out  my 
stockings,  but  my  companion,  who  used  boots,  had  found 
that  this  was  not  a  safe  experiment  for  him,  for  he  might 
not  be  able  to  get  his  wet  boots  on  again.  He  went  over 
the  whole  ground,  or  water,  three  times,  for  which  rea- 
son our  progress  was  very  slow ;  beside  that  the  water 
softened  our  feet,  and  to  some  extent  unfitted  them  for 
10*  o 


226  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

walking.  As  I  sat  waiting  for  him,  it  would  naturally 
seem  an  unaccountable  time  that  he  was  gone.  There- 
fore, as  I  could  see  through  the  woods  that  the  sun  was 
getting  low,  and  it  was  uncertain  how  far  the  lake  might 
be,  even  if  we  were  on  the  right  course,  and  in  what 
part  of  the  world  we  should  find  ourselves  at  nightfall,  I 
proposed  that  I  should  push  through  with  what  speed  I 
could,  leaving  boughs  to  mark  my  path,  and  find  the  lake 
and  the  Indian,  if  possible,  before  night,  and  send  the 
latter  back  to  carry  my  companion's  bag. 

Having  gone  about  a  mile,  and  got  into  low  ground 
again,  I  heard  a  noise  like  the  note  of  an  owl,  which  I 
soon  discovered  to  be  made  by  the  Indian,  and  answering 
him,  we  soon  came  together.  He  had  reached  the  lake, 
after  crossing  Mud  Pond,  and  running  some  rapids  be- 
low it,  and  had  come  up  about  a  mile  and  a  half  on  our 
path.  If  he  had  not  come  back  to  meet  us,  we  probably 
should  not  have  found  him  that  night,  for  the  path 
branched  once  or  twice  before  reaching  this  particular 
part  of  the  lake.  So  he  went  back  for  my  companion 
and  his  bag,  while  I  kept  on.  Having  waded  through 
another  stream  where. the  bridge  of  logs  had  been  broken 
up  and  half  floated  away,  —  and  this  was  not  altogether 
worse  than  our  ordinary  walking,  since  it  was  less  muddy, 
—  we  continued  on,  through  alternate  mud  and  water,  to 
the  shore  of  Apmoojenegamook  Lake,  which  we  reached  in 
season  for  a  late  supper,  instead  of  dining  there,  as  we 
had  expected,  having  gone  without  our  dinner.  It  was 
at  least  five  miles  by  the  way  we  had  come,  and  as  my 
companion  had  gone  over  most  of  it  three  times,  he  had 
walked  full  a  dozen  miles,  bad  as  it  was.  In  the  winter, 
when  the  water  is  frozen,  and  the  snow  is  four  feet  deep, 
it  is  no  doubt  a  tolerable  path  to  a  footman.  As  it  was, 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  227 

I  would  not  have  missed  that  walk  for  a  good  deal.  If 
you  want  an  exact  recipe  for  making  such  a  road,  take 
one  part  Mud  Pond,  and  dilute  it  with  equal  parts  of 
Umbazookskus  and  Apmoojenegamook ;  then  send  a 
family  of  musquash  through  to  locate  it,  look  after  the 
grades  and  culverts,  and  finish  it  to  their  minds,  and  let 
a  hurricane  follow  to  do  the  fencing. 

We  had  come  out  on  a  point  extending  into  Apmoo- 
jenegamook, or  Chamberlain  Lake,  west  of  the  outlet  of 
Mud  Pond,  where  there  was  a  broad,  gravelly,  and  rocky 
shore,  encumbered  with  bleached  logs  and  trees.  We 
were  rejoiced  to  see  such  dry  things  in  that  part  of  the 
world.  But  at  first  we  did  not  attend  to  dryness  so  much 
as  to  mud  and  wetness.  We  all  three  walked  into  the 
lake  up  to  our  middle  to  wash  our  clothes. 

This  was  another  noble  lake,  called  twelve  miles  long, 
east  and  west ;  if  you  add  Tebos  Lake,  which,  since  the 
dam  was  built,  has  been  connected  with  it  by  dead  water, 
it  will  be  twenty ;  and  it  is  apparently  from  a  mile  and 
a  half  to  two  miles  wide.  We  were  about  midway  its 
length,  on  the  south  side.  We  could  see  the  only  clear- 
ing in  these  parts,  called  the  "  Chamberlain  Farm,"  with 
two  or  three  log  buildings  close  together,  on  the  opposite 
shore,  some  two  and  a  half  miles  distant.  The  smoke 
of  our  fire  on  the  shore  brought  over  two  men  in  a  canoe 
from  the  farm,  that  being  a  common  signal  agreed  on 
when  one  wishes  to  cross.  It  took  them  about  half  an 
hour  to  come  over,  and  they  had  their  labor  for  their 
pains  this  time.  Even  the  English  name  of  the  lake  had 
a  wild,  woodland  sound,  reminding  me  of  that  Chamber- 
lain who  killed  Paugus  at  Lovewell's  fight. 

After  putting  on  such  dry  clothes  as  we  had,  and  hang- 
ing the  others  to  dry  on  the  pole  which  the  Indian  ar- 


228  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

ranged  over  the  fire,  we  ate  our  supper,  and  lay  down  on 
th«3  pebbly  shore  with  our  feet  to  the  fire,  without  pitching 
our  tent,  making  a  thin  bed  of  grass  to  cover  the  stones. 

Here  first  I  was  molested  by  the  little  midge  called  the 
No-see-em  (Simulium  nocivum,  the  latter  word  is  not 
the  Latin  for  no-see-em),  especially  over  the  sand  at  the 
water's  edge,  for  it  is  a  kind  of  sand-fly.  You  would  not 
observe  them  but  for  their  light-colored  wings.  They 
are  said  to  get  under  your  clothes,  and  produce  a  fever- 
ish heat,  which  I  suppose  was  what  I  felt  that  night. 

Our  insect  foes  in  this  excursion,  to  sum  them  up, 
were,  first,  mosquitoes,  the  chief  ones,  but  only  troublesome 
at  night,  or  when  we  sat  still  on  shore  by  day ;  second, 
black  flies  (Simulium  molestum),  which  molested  us  more 
or  less  on  the  carries  by  day,  as  I  have  before  described, 
and  sometimes  in  narrower  parts  of  the  stream.  Harris 
mistakes  when  he  says  that  they  are  not  seen  after  June. 
Third,  moose-flies.  The  big  ones,  Polis  said,  were  called 
Bososquasis.  It  is  a  stout  brown  fly,  much  like  a  horse-fly, 
about  eleven  sixteenths  of  an  inch  long,  commonly  rusty 
colored  beneath,  with  unspotted  wings.  They  can  bite 
smartly,  according  to  Polis,  but  are  easily  avoided  or 
killed.  Fourth,  the  No-see-ems  above  mentioned.  Of 
all  these,  the  mosquitoes  are  the  only  ones  that  troubled 
me  seriously ;  but,  as  I  was  provided  with  a  wash  and  a 
veil,  they  have  not  made  any  deep  impression. 

The  Indian  would  not  use  our  wash  to  protect  his  face 
and  hands,  for  fear  that  it  would  hurt  his  skin,  nor  had 
he  any  veil ;  he,  therefore,  suffered  from  insects  now,  and 
throughout  this  journey,  more  than  either  of  us.  I  think 
that  he  suffered  more  than  I  did,  when  neither  of  us  was 
protected.  He  regularly  tied  up  his  face  in  his  handker- 
chief, and  buried  it  in  his  blanket,  and  he  now  finally  lay 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  229 

• 

down  on  the  sand  between  us  and  the  fire  for  the  sake 
of  the  smoke,  which  he  tried  to  make  enter  his  blanket 
about  his  face,  and  for  the  same  purpose  he  lit  his  pipe 
and  breathed  the  smoke  into  his  blanket. 

As  we  lay  thus  on  the  shore,  with  nothing  between  us 
and  the  stars,  I  inquired  what  stars  he  was  acquainted 
with,  or  had  names  for.  They  were  the  Great  Bear, 
which  he  called  by  this  name,  the  Seven  Stars,  which  he 
had  no  English  name  for,  "  the  morning  star,"  and  "  the 
north  star." 

In  the  middle  of  the  night,  as  indeed  each  time  that 
we  lay  on  the  shore  of  a  lake,  we  heard  the  voice  of  the 
loon,  loud  and  distinct,  from  far  over  the  lake.  It  is  a 
very  wild  sound,  quite  in  keeping  with  the  place  and  the 
circumstances  of  the  traveller,  and  very  unlike  the  voice 
of  a  bird.  I  could  lie  awake  for  hours  listening  to  it,  it 
is  so  thrilling.  When  camping  in  such  a  wilderness  as 
this,  you  are  prepared  to  hear  sounds  from  some  of  its  in- 
habitants which  will  give  voice  to  its  wildness.  Some  idea 
of  bears,  wolves,  or  panthers  runs  in  your  head  naturally, 
and  when  this  note  is  first  heard  very  far  off  at  midnight, 
as  you  lie  with  your  ear  to  the  ground,  —  the  forest  being 
perfectly  still  about  you,  you  take  it  for  granted  that  it 
is  the  voice  of  a  wolf  or  some  other  wild  beast,  for  only 
the  last  part  is  heard  when  at  a  distance,  —  you  conclude 
that  it  is  a  pack  of  wolves  baying  the  moon,  or,  per- 
chance, cantering  after  a  moose.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  the  "  mooing  "  of  a  cow  on  a  mountain-side  comes 
nearest  to  my  idea  of  the  voice  of  a  bear ;  and  this  bird's 
note  resembled  that.  It  was  the  unfailing  and  character- 
istic sound  of  those  lakes.  We  were  not  so  lucky  as  to 
hear  wolves  howl,  though  that  is  an  occasional  serenade. 
Some  friends  of  mine,  who  two  years  ago  went  up  the 


230  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

» 

Caucomgomoc  River,  were  serenaded  by  wolves  while 
moose-hunting  by  moonlight.  It  was  a  sudden  burst,  as 
if  a  hundred  demons  had  broke  loose,  —  a  startling  sound 
enough,  which,  if  any,  would  make  your  hair  stand  on 
end,  and  all  was  still  again.  It  lasted  but  a  moment,  and 
you  'd  have  thought  there  were  twenty  of  them,  when 
probably  there  were  only  two  or  three.  They  heard  it 
twice  only,  and  they  said  that  it  gave  expression  to  the 
wilderness  which  it  lacked  before.  I  heard  of  some  men 
who,  while  skinning  a  moose  lately  in  those  woods,  were 
driven  off  from  the  carcass  by  a  pack  of  wolves,  which 
ate  it  up. 

This  of  the  loon  —  I  do  not  mean  its  laugh,  but  its 
looning  —  is  a  long-drawn  call,  as  it  were,  sometimes 
singularly  human  to  my  ear,  —  hoo-hoo-ooooo,  like  the 
hallooing  of  a  man  on  a  very  high  key,  having  thrown 
his  voice  into  his  head.  I  have  heard  a  sound  exactly 
like  it  when  breathing  heavily  through  my  own  nostrils, 
half  awake  at  ten  at  night,  suggesting  my  affinity  to  the 
loon ;  as  if  its  language  were  but  a  dialect  of  my  own, 
after  all.  Formerly,  when  lying  awake  at  midnight  in 
those  woods,  I  had  listened  to  hear  some  words  or  syl- 
lables of  their  language,  but  it  chanced  that  I  listened  in 
vain  until  I  heard  the  cry  of  the  loon.  I  have  heard  it 
occasionally  on  the  ponds  of  my  native  town,  but  there 
its  wildness  is  not  enhanced  by  the  surrounding  scenery. 

I  was  awakened  at  midnight  by  some  heavy,  low-fly- 
ing bird,  probably  a  loon,  flapping  by  close  over  my 
head,  along  the  shore.  So,  turning  the  other  side  of  my 
half-clad  body  to  the  fire,  I  sought  slumber  again. 

TUESDAY,  July  28. 
When  we  awoke  we  found  a  heavy  dew  on  our  blan- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  231 

kets.  I  lay  awake  very  early,  and  listened  to  the  clear, 
shrill  ak-tette-tette-te,  of  the  white-throated  sparrow,  re- 
peated at  short  intervals,  without  the  least  variation,  for 
half  an  hour,  as  if  it  could  not  enough  express  its  hap- 
piness. Whether  my  companions  heard  it  or  not,  I 
know  not,  but  it  was  a  kind  of  matins  to  me,  and  the 
event  of  that  forenoon. 

It  was  a  pleasant  sunrise,  and  we  had  a  view  of  the 
mountains  in  the  southeast.  Ktaadn  appeared  about 
southeast  by  south.  A  double-topped  mountain,  about 
southeast  by  east,  and  another  portion  of  the  same,  east- 
southeast.  The  last  the  Indian  called  Nerlumskeechti- 
cook,  and  said  that  it  was  at  the  head  of  the  East  Branch, 
and  we  should  pass  near  it  on  our  return  that  way. 

We  did  some  more  washing  in  the  lake  this  morning, 
and  with  our  clothes  hung  about  on  the  dead  trees 
and  rocks,  the  shore  looked  like  washing-day  at  home. 
The  Indian,  taking  the  hint,  borrowed  the  soap,  and 
walking  into  the  lake,  washed  his  only  cotton  shirt  on  his 
person,  then  put  on  his  pants  and  let  it  dry  on  him. 

I  observed  that  he  wore  a  cotton  shirt,  originally 
white,  a  greenish  flannel  one  over  it,  but  no  waistcoat, 
flannel  drawers,  and  strong  linen  or  duck  pants,  which 
also  had  been  white,  blue  woolfen  stockings,  cowhide 
boots,  and  a  Kossuth  hat.  He  carried  no  change  of 
clothing,  but  putting  on  a  stout,  thick  jacket,  which  he 
laid  aside  in  the  canoe,  and  seizing  a  full-sized  axe,  his 
gun  and  ammunition,  arid  a  blanket,  which  would  do  for 
a  sail  or  knapsack,  if  wanted,  and  strapping  on  his  belt, 
which  contained  a  large  sheath-knife,  he  walked  off  at 
once,  ready  to  be  gone  all  summer.  This  looked  very 
independent;  a  few  simple  and  effective  tools,  and  no 
India-rubber  clothing.  He  was  always  the  first  ready 


232  '  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

to  start  in  the  morning,  and  if  it  had  not  held  some  of 
our  property  would  not  have  been  obliged  to  roll  up  his 
blanket.  Instead  of  carrying  a  large  bundle  of  his  own 
extra  clothing,  &c.,  he  brought  back  the  great-coats  of 
moose  tied  up  in  his  blanket.  I  found  that  his  outfit  was 
the  result  of  a  long  experience,  and  in  the  main  hardly  to 
be  improved  on,  unless  by  washing  and  an  extra  shirt. 
Wanting  a  button  here,  he  walked  off  to  a  place  where 
some  Indians  had  recently  encamped,  and  searched  for 
one,  but  I  believe  in  vain. 

Having  softened  our  stiffened  boots  and  shoes  with 
the  pork  fat,  the  usual  disposition  of  what  was  left  at 
breakfast,  we  crossed  the  lake  early,  steering  in  a  diag- 
onal direction  northeasterly  about  four  miles,  to  the  out- 
let, which  was  not  to  be  discovered  till  we  were  close  to 
it.  The  Indian  name,  Apmoojenegamook,  means  lake 
that  is  crossed,  because  the  usual  course  lies  across,  and 
not  along  it.  This  is  the  largest  of  the  Allegash  lakes, 
and  was  the  first  St.  John's  water  that  we  floated  on. 
It  is  shaped  in  the  main  like  Chesuncook.  There  are 
no  mountains  or  high  hills  very  near  it.  At  Bangor  we 
had  been  told  of  a  township  many  miles  farther  north- 
west; it  was  indicated  to  us  as  containing  the  highest 
land  thereabouts,  where,  by  climbing  a  particular  tree  in 
the  forest,  we  could  get  a  general  idea  of  the  country. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  the  last  was  good  advice,  but  we 
did  not  go  there.  We  did  not  intend  to  go  far  down  the 
Allegash,  but  merely  to  get  a  view  of  the  great  lakes 
which  are  its  source,  and  then  return  this  way  to  the 
East  Branch  of  the  Penobscot.  The  water  now,  by  good 
rights,  flowed  northward,  if  it  could  be  said  to  flow  at  all. 

After  reaching  the  middle  of  the  lake,  we  found  the 
waves  as  usual  pretty  high,  and  the  Indian  warned  my 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     233 

companion,  who  was  nodding,  that  he  must  not  allow 
himself  to  fall  asleep  in  the  canoe  lest  he  should  upset 
us ;  adding,  that  when  Indians  want  to  sleep  in  a 
canoe,  they  lie  down  straight  on  the  bottom.  But  in  this 
crowded  one  that  was  impossible.  However,  he  said 
that  he  would  nudge  him  if  he  saw  him  nodding. 

A  belt  of  dead  trees  stood  all  around  the  lake,  some 
far  out  in  the  water,  with  others  prostrate  behind  them, 
and  they  made  the  shore,  for  the  most  part,  almost  inac- 
cessible. This  is  the  effect  of  the  dam  at  the  outlet. 
Thus  the  natural  sandy  or  rocky  shore,  with  its  green 
fringe,  was  concealed  and  destroyed.  We  coasted  west- 
ward along  the  north  side,  searching  for  the  outlet,  about 
one  quarter  of  a  mile  distant  from  this  savage-looking 
shore,  on  which  the  waves  were  breaking  violently, 
knowing  that  it  might  easily  be  concealed  amid  this  rub- 
bish, or  by  the  over-lapping  of  the  shore.  It  is  remark- 
able how  little  these  important  gates  to  a  lake  are  bla- 
zoned. There  is  no  triumphal  arch  over  the  modest 
inlet  or  outlet,  but  at  some  undistinguished  point  it  tric- 
kles in  or  out  through  the  uninterrupted  forest,  almost  as 
through  a  sponge. 

We  reached  the  outlet  in  about  an  hour,  and  carried 
over  the  dam  there,  which  is  quite  a  solid  structure,  and 
about  one  quarter  of  a  mile  farther  there  was  a  second 
dam.  The  reader  will  perceive  that  the  result  of  this 
particular  damming  about  Chamberlain  Lake  is,  that  the 
head-waters  of  the  St.  John  are  made  to  flow  by  Ban- 
gor.  They  have  thus  dammed  all  the  larger  lakes,  rais- 
ing their  broad  surfaces  many  feet ;  Moosehead,  for 
instance,  some  forty  miles  long,  with  its  steamer  on  it ; 
thus  turning  the  forces  of  nature  against  herself,  that  they 
might  float  their  spoils  out  of  the  country.  They  rapidly 


234=  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

run  out  of  these  immense  forests  all  the  finer,  and  more 
accessible  pine  timber,  and  then  leave  the  bears  to  watch 
the  decaying  dams,  not  clearing  nor  cultivating  the  land, 
nor  making  roads,  nor  building  houses,  but  leaving  it  a 
wilderness,  as  they  found  it.  Jn  many  parts,  only  these 
dams  remain,  like  deserted  beaver-dams.  Think  how 
much  land  they  have  flowed,  without  asking  Nature's 
leave !  When  the  State  wishes  to  endow  an  academy  or 
university,  it  grants  it  a  tract  of  forest  land:  one  saw 
represents  an  academy;  a  gang,  a  university. 

The  wilderness  experiences  a  sudden  rise  of  all  her 
streams  and  lakes,  she  feels  ten  thousand  vermin  gnaw- 
ing at  the  base  of  her  noblest  trees,  many  combining, 
drag  them  off,  jarring  over  the  roots  of  the  survivors,  and 
tumble  them  into  the  nearest  stream,  till  the  fairest  hav- 
ing fallen,  they  scamper  off  to  ransack  some  new  wilder- 
ness, and  all  is  still  again.  It  is  as  when  a  migrating 
army  of  mice  girdles  a  forest  of  pines.  The  chopper 
fells  trees  from  the  same  motive  that  the  mouse  gnaws 
them,  —  to  get  his  living.  You  tell  me  that  he  has  a 
more  interesting  family  than  the  mouse.  That  is  as  it 
happens.  He  speaks  of  a  "berth"  of  timber,  a  good 
place  for  him  to  get  into,  just  as  a  worm  might.  When 
the  chopper  would  praise  a  pine,  he  will  commonly  tell 
you  that  the  one  he  cut  was  so  big  that  a  yoke  of  oxen 
stood  on  its  stump  ;  as  if  that  were  what  the  pine  had 
grown  for,  to  become  the  footstool  of  oxen.  In  my  mind's 
eye,  I  can  see  these  unwieldy  tame  deer,  with  a  yoke 
binding  them  together,  and  brazen-tipped  horns  betray- 
ing their  servitude,  taking  their  stand  on  the  stump  of 
each  giant  pine  in  succession  throughout  this  whole  for- 
est, and  chewing  their  cud  there,  until  it  is  nothing  but 
an  ox-pasture,  and  run  out  at  that.  As  if  it  were  good 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  235 

for  the  oxen,  and  some  terebinthine  or  other  medicinal 
quality  ascended  into  their  nostrils.  Or  is  their  elevated 
position  intended  merely  as  a  symbol  of  the  fact  that  the 
pastoral  comes  next  in  order  to  the  sylvan  or  hunter  life. 

The  character  of  the  logger's  admiration  is  betrayed 
by  his  very  mode  of  expressing  it.  If  he  told  all  that 
was  in  his  mind,  he  would  say,  it  was  so  big  that  I  cut 
it  down  and  then  a  yoke  of  oxen  could  stand  on  its 
stump.  He  admires  the  log,  the  carcass  or  corpse,  more 
than  the  tree.  Why,  my  dear  sir,  the  tree  might  have 
stood  on  its  own  stump,  and  a  great  deal  more  comforta- 
bly and  firmly  than  a  yoke  of  oxen  can,  if  you  had  not 
cut  it  down.  What  right  have  you  to  celebrate  the  vir- 
tues of  the  man  you  murdered  ? 

The  Anglo-American  can  indeed  cut  down,  and  grub 
up  all  this  waving  forest,  and  make  a  stump  speech,  and 
vote  for  Buchanan  on  its  ruins,  but  he  cannot  converse 
with  the  spirit  of  the  tree  he  fells,  he  cannot  read  the 
poetry  and  mythology  which  retire  as  he  advances.  He 
ignorantly  erases  mythological  tablets  in  order  to  print 
his  handbills  and  town-meeting  warrants  on  them.  Be- 
fore he  has  learned  his  a  b  c  in  the  beautiful  but  mystic 
lore  of  the  wilderness  which  Spenser  and  Dante  had  just 
begun  to  read,  he  cuts  it  down,  coins  a  pine-tree  shilling, 
(as  if  to  signify  the  pine's  value  to  him,)  puts  up  a 
Restrict  school-house,  and  introduces  Webster's  spelling- 
book. 

Below  the  last  dam,  the  river  being  swift  and  shallow, 
though  broad  enough,  we  two  walked  about  half  a  mile 
to  lighten  the  canoe.  I  made  it  a  rule  to  carry  my  knap- 
sack when  I  walked,  and  also  to  keep  it  tied  to  a  cross- 
bar when  in  the  canoe,  that  it  might  be  found  with  the 
canoe  if  we  should  upset. 


236  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

I  heard  the  dog-day  locust  here,  and  afterward  on  the 
carries,  a  sound  which  I  had  associated  only  with  more 
open,  if  not  settled  countries.  The  area  for  locusts  must 
be  small  in  the  Maine  woods. 

We  were  now  fairly  on  the  Allegash  River,  which 
name  our  Indian  said  meant  hemlock  bark.  These 
waters  flow  northward  about  100  miles,  at  first  very 
feebly,  then  southeasterly  250  more  to  the  Bay  of  Fun- 
dy.  After  perhaps  two  miles  of  river,  we  entered  Heron 
Lake,  called  on  the  map  Pongokwahem^  scaring  up  forty 
or  fifty  young  shecorways,  sheldrakes,  at  the  entrance, 
which  ran  over  the  water  with  great  rapidity,  as  usual 
in  a  long  line. 

This  was  the  fourth  great  lake,  lying  northwest  and 
southeast,  like  Chesuncook,  and  most  of  the  long  lakes 
in  that  neighborhood,  and,  judging  from  the  map,  it  is 
about  ten  miles  long.  We  had  entered  it  on  the  south- 
west side,  and  saw  a  dark  mountain  northeast  over  the 
lake,  not  very  far  off  nor  high,  which  the  Indian  said  was 
called  Peaked  Mountain,  and  used  by  explorers  to  look 
for  timber  from.  There  was  also  some  other  high  land 
more  easterly.  The  shores  were  in  the  same  ragged 
and  unsightly  condition,  encumbered  with  dead  timber, 
both  fallen  and  standing,  as  in  the  last  lake,  owing  to  the 
dam  on  the  Allegash  below.  Some  low  points  or  islands 
were  almost  drowned. 

I  saw  something  white  a  mile  off  on  the  water,  which 
turned  out  to  be  a  great  gull  on  a  rock  in  the  middle, 
which  the  Indian  would  have  been  glad  to  kill  and  eat, 
but  it  flew  away  long  before  we  were  near ;  and  also 
a  flock  of  summer  ducks  that  were  about  the  rock  with 
it.  I  asking  him  about  herons,  since  this  was  Heron 
Lake,  he  said  that  he  found  the  blue  heron's  nests  in 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  237 

the  hard-wood  trees.  I  thought  that  I  saw  a  light-col- 
ored object  move  along  the  opposite  or  northern  shore, 
four  or  five  miles  distant.  He  did  not  know  what  it 
could  be,  unless  it  were  a  moose,  though  he  had  never 
seen  a  white  one ;  but  he  said  that  he  could  distinguish  a 
moose  "  anywhere  on  shore,  clear  across  the  lake." 

Rounding  a  point,  we  stood  across  a  bay  for  a  mile  and 
a  half  or  two  miles,  toward  a  large  island,  three  or  four 
miles  down  the  lake.  We  met  with  ephemerae  (shad-fly) 
midway,  about  a  mile  from  the  shore,  and  they  evident- 
ly fly  over  the  whole  lake.  On  Moosehead  I  had  seen  a 
large  devil's-needle  half  a  mile  from  the  shore,  coming 
from  the  middle  of  the  lake,  where  it  was  three  or  four 
miles  wide  at  least.  It  had  probably  crossed.  But  at 
last,  of  course,  you  come  to  lakes  so  large  that  an  insect 
cannot  fly  across  them  ;  and  this,  perhaps,  will  serve  to 
distinguish  a  large  lake  from  a  small  one. 

We  landed  on  the  southeast  side  of  the  island,  which 
was  rather  elevated,  and  densely  wooded,  with  a  rocky 
shore,  in  season  for  an  early  dinner.  Somebody  had 
camped  there  not  long  before,  and  left  the  frame  on  which 
they  stretched  a  moose-hide,  which  our  Indian  criticised 
severely,  thinking  it  showed  but  little  woodcraft.  Here 
were  plenty  of  the  shells  of  crayfish,  or  fresh-water  lob- 
sters, which  had  been  washed  ashore,  such  as  have  given 
a  name  to  some  ponds  and  streams.  They  are  commonly 
four  or  five  inches  long.  The  Indian  proceeded  at  once 
to  cut  a  canoe-birch,  slanted  it  up  against  another  tree 
on  the  shore,  tying  it  with  a  withe,  and  lay  down  to  sleep 
in  its  shade. 

When  we  were  on  the  Caucomgomoc,  he  recommended 
to  us  a  new  way  home,  the  very  one  which  we  had  first 
thought  of,  by  the  St.  John.  He  even  said  that  it  was 


238  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

easier,  and  would  take  but  little  more  time  than  the 
other,  by  the  east  branch  of  the  Penobscot,  though  very 
much  farther  round ;  and  taking  the  map,  he  showed 
where  we  should  be  each  night,  for  he  was  familiar  with 
the  route.  According  to  his  calculation,  we  should  reach 
the  French-  settlements  the  next  night  after  this,  by  keep- 
ing northward  down  the  Allegash,  and  when  we  got  into 
the  main  St.  John  the  banks  would  be  more  or  less  set- 
tled all  the  way ;  as  if  that  were  a  recommendation. 
There  would  be  but  one  or  two  falls,  with  short  carrying- 
places,  and  we  should  go  down  the  stream  very  fast,  even 
a  hundred  miles  a  day,  if  the  wind  allowed  ;  and  he  in- 
dicated where  we  should  carry  over  into  Eel  River  to 
save  a  bend  below  Woodstock  in  New  Brunswick,  and 
so  into  the  Schoodic  Lake,  and  thence  to  the  Matta- 
wamkeag.  It  would  be  about  three  hundred  and  sixty 
miles  to  Bangor  this  way,  though  only  about  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  by  the  other ;  but  in  the  former  case  we 
should  explore  the  St.  John  from  its  source  through  two 
thirds  of  its  course,  as  well  as  the  Schoodic  Lake  and 
Mattawamkeag,  —  and  we  were  again  tempted  to  go  that 
way.  I  feared,  however,  that  the  banks  of  the  St.  John 
were  too  much  settled.  When  I  asked  him  which  course 
would  take  us  through  the  wildest  country,  he  said  the 
route  by  the  East  Branch.  Partly  from  this  considera- 
tion, as  also  from  its  shortness,  we  resolved  to  adhere  to 
the  latter  route,  and  perhaps  ascend  Ktaadn  on  the  way. 
We  made  this  island  the  limit  of  our  excursion  in  this 
direction. 

We  had  now  seen  the  largest  of  the  Allegash  Lakes. 
The  next  dam  "  was  about  fifteen  miles  "  farther  north, 
down  the  Allegash,  and  it  was  dead  water  so  far.  We 
had  been  told  in  Bangor  of  a  man  who  lived  alone,  a  sort 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  239 

of  hermit,  at  that  dam,  to  take  care  of  it,  who  spent  his 
time  tossing"  a  bullet  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  for  want 
of  employment,  —  as  if  we  might  want  to  call  on  him. 
This  sort  of  tit-for-tat  intercourse  between  his  two  hands, 
bandying' to  and  fro  a  leaden  subject,  seems  to  have  been 
his  symbol  for  society. 

This  island,  according  to  the  map,  was  about  a  hun- 
dred and  ten  miles  in  a  straight  line  north-northwest 
from  Bangor,  and  about  ninety-nine  miles  east-southeast 
from  Quebec.  There  was  another  island  visible  toward 
the  north  end  of  the  lake,  with  an  elevated  clearing  on 
it ;  but  we  learned  afterward  that  it  was  not  inhabited, 
had  only  been  used  as  a  pasture  for  cattle  which  sum- 
mered in  these  woods,  though  our  informant  said  that 
there  was  a  hut  on  the  mainland  near  the  outlet  of  the 
lake.  This  unnaturally  smooth-shaven,  squarish  spot,  in 
the  midst  of  the  otherwise  uninterrupted  forest,  only  re- 
minded us  how  uninhabited  the  country  was.  You 
would  sooner  expect  to  meet  with  a  bear  than  an  ox  in 
such  a  clearing.  At  any  rate,  it  must  have  been  a  sur- 
prise to  the  bears  when  they  came  across  it.  Such,  seen 
far  or  near,  you  know  at  once  to  be  man's  work,  for  Na- 
ture never  does  it.  In  .order  to  let  in  the  light  to  the 
earth  as  on  a  lake,  he  clears  off  the  forest  on  the  hillsides 
and  plains,  and  sprinkles  fine  grass-seed,  like  an  en- 
chanter, and  so  carpets  the  earth  with  a  firm  sward. 

Polis  had  evidently  more  curiosity  respecting  the  few 
settlers  in  those  woods  than  we.  If  nothing  was  said, 
he  took  it  for  granted  that  we  wanted  to  go  straight  to 
the  next  log-hut.  Having  observed  that  we  came  by 
the  log-huts  at  Chesuncook,  and  the  blind  Canadian's  at 
the  Mud  Pond  carry,  without  stopping  to  communicate 
with  the  inhabitants,  he  took  occasion  now  to  suggest 


240  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

that  the  usual  way  was,  when  you  came  near  a  house,  to 
go  to  it,  and  tell  the  inhabitants  what  you  had  seen  or 
heard,  and  then  they  tell  you  what  they  had  seen ;  but 
we  laughed,  and  said  that  we  had  had  enough  of  houses 
for  the  present,  and  had  come  here  partly  to  avoid  them. 

In  the  mean  while,  the  wind,  increasing,  blew  down  the 
Indian's  birch  and  created  such  a  sea  that  we  found  our- 
selves prisoners  on  the  island,  the  nearest  shore,  which 
was  the  western,  being  perhaps  a  mile  distant,  and  we 
took  the  canoe  out  to  prevent  its  drifting  away.  We  did 
not  know  but  we  should  be  compelled  to  spend  the  rest  of 
the  day  and  the  night  there.  At  any  rate,  the  Indian  went 
to  sleep  again  in  the  shade  of  his  birch,  my  companion 
busied  himself  drying  his  plants,  and  I  rambled  along  the 
shore  westward,  which  was  quite  stony,  and  obstructed 
with  fallen  bleached  or  drifted  trees  for  four  or  five  rods 
in  width.  I  found  growing  on  this  broad  rocky  and 
gravelly  shore  the  Salix  rostrata,  discolor,  and  lucida, 
Ranunculus  recurvatus,  Potentilla  Nbrvegica,  Scutellaria 
lateriflora,  Eupatorium  purpureum,  Aster  Tradescanti, 
Mentha  Canadensis,  Epilobium  angustifolium,  abundant. 
Lycopus  minatus,  Solidago  lanceolata,  Spircea  salici- 
folia,  Antennaria  margaraticea,  Prunella,  Rumex  aceto- 
setta,  Raspberries,  Wool-grass,  Onoclea,  &c.  The  nearest 
trees  were  Betula  papyracea  and  excelsa,  and  Populus 
tremuloides.  I  give  these  names  because  it  was  my 
farthest  northern  point. 

Our  Indian  said  that  he  was  a  doctor,  and  could  tell 
me  some  medicinal  use  for  every  plant  I  could  show  him. 
I  immediately  tried  him.  He  said  that  the  inner  bark 
of  the  aspen  (Populus  tremuloides)  was  good  for  sore 
eyes ;  and  so  with  various  other  plants,  proving  himself 
as  good  as  his  word.  According  to  his  account,  he  had 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  241 

acquired  such  knowledge  in  his  youth  from  a  wise  old 
Indian  with  whom  he  associated,  and  he  lamented  that 
the  present  generation  of  Indians  "  had  lost  a  great  deal." 

He  said  that  the  caribou  was  a  "  very  great  runner," 
that  there  was  none  about  this  lake  now,  though  there 
used  to  be  many,  and  pointing  to  the  belt  of  dead  trees 
caused  by  the  dams,  he  added,  "  No  likum  stump,  —  when 
he  sees  that  he  scared." 

Pointing  southeasterly  over  the  lake  and  distant  for- 
est, he  observed,  "  Me  go  Oldtown  in  three  days."  I 
asked  how  he  would  get  over  the  swamps  and  fallen  trees. 
"  0,"  said  he,  "  in  winter  all  covered,  go  anywhere  on  snow- 
shoes,  right  across  lakes."  When  I  asked  how  he  went, 
he  said,  "  First  I  go  Ktaadn,  west  side,  then  I  go  Milli- 
nocket,  then  Pamadumcook,  then  Nickatou,  then  Lincoln, 
then  Oldtown,"  or  else  he  went  a  shorter  way  by  the 
Piscataquis.  What  a  wilderness  walk  for  a  man  to  take 
alone !  None  of  your  half-mile  swamps,  none  of  your 
mile-wide  woods  merely,  as  on  the  skirts  of  our  towns, 
without  hotels,  only  a  dark  mountain  or  a  lake  for  guide- 
board  and  station,  over  ground  much  of  it  impassable  in 
summer ! 

It  reminded  me*  of  Prometheus  Bound.  Here  was 
travelling  of  the  old  heroic  kind  over  the  unaltered  face 
of  nature.  From  the  Allegash,  or  Hemlock  River,  and 
Pongoquahem  Lake,  across  great  Apmoojenegamook,  and 
leaving  the  Nerlumskeechticook  Mountain  on  his  left,  he 
takes  his  way  under  the  bear-haunted  slopes  of  Souneunk 
and  Ktaadn  Mountains  to  Pamadumcook  and  Millinocket's 
inland  seas,  (where  often  gulls'-eggs  may  increase  his 
store,)  and  so  on  to  the  forks  of  the  Nickatou,  (nia  soseb 
"  we  alone  Joseph "  seeing  what  our  folks  see,)  ever 
pushing  the  boughs  of  the  fir  and  spruce  aside,  with  his 
II  F 


242  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

load  of  furs,  contending  day  and  night,  night  and  day, 
with  the  shaggy  demon  vegetation,  travelling  through  the 
mossy  graveyard  of  trees.  Or  he  could  go  by  "that 
rough  tooth  of  the  sea,"  Kineo,  great  source  of  arrows 
and  of  spears  to  the  ancients,  when  weapons  of  stone 
were  used.  Seeing  and  hearing  moose,  caribou,  bears, 
porcupines,  lynxes,  wolves,  and  panthers.  Places  where 
he  might  live  and  die  and  never  hear  of  the  United 
States,  which  make  such  a  noise  in  the  world,  —  never 
hear  of  America,  so  called  from  the  name  of  a  European 
gentleman. 

There  is  a  lumberer's  road  called  the  Eagle  Lake 
road,  from  the  Seboois  to  the  east  side  of  this  lake.  It 
may  seem  strange  that  any  road  through  such  a  wilder- 
ness should  be  passable,  even  in  winter,  when  the  snow 
is  three  or  four  feet  deep,  but  at  that  season,  wherever 
lumbering  operations  are  actively  carried  on,  teams  are 
continually  passing  on  the  single  track,  and  it  becomes  as 
smooth  almost  as  a  railway.  I  am  told  that  in  the  Aroos- 
took  country  the  sleds  are  required  by  law  to  be  of  one 
width,  (four  feet,)  and  sleighs  must  be  altered  to  fit  the 
track,  so  that  one  runner  may  go  in  one  rut  and  the  other 
follow  the  horse.  Yet  it  is  very  bad  turning  out. 

We  had  for  some  time  seen  a  thunder-shower  coming 
up  from  the  west  over  the  woods  of  the  island,  and  heard 
the  muttering  of  the  thunder,  though  we  were  in  doubt 
whether  it  would  reach  us ;  but  now  the  darkness  rapidly 
increasing,  and  a  fresh  breeze  rustling  the  forest,  we 
hastily  put  up  the  plants  which  we  had  been  drying,  and 
with  one  consent  made  a  rush  for  the  tent  material  and 
set  about  pitching  it.  A  place  was  selected  and  stakes 
and  pins  cut  in  the  shortest  possible  time,  and  we  were 
pinning  it  down  lest  it  should  be  blown  away,  when  the 
storm  suddenly  burst  over  us. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  243 

As  we  lay  huddled  together  under  the  tent,  which 
leaked  considerably  about  the  sides,  with  our  baggage 
at  our  feet,  we  listened  to  some  of  the  grandest  thunder 
which  I  ever  heard,  —  rapid  peals,  round  and  plump,  bang, 
bang,  bang,  in  succession,  like  artillery  from  some  fortress 
in  the  sky  ;  and  the  lightning  was  proportionally  brilliant. 
The  Indian  said,  "  It  must  be  good  powder."  All  for 
the  benefit  of  the  moose  and  us,  echoing  far  over  the 
concealed  lakes.  I  thought  it  must  be  a  place  which  the 
thunder  loved,  where  the  lightning  practised  to  keep  its 
hand  in,  and  it  would  do  no  harm  to  shatter  a  few  pines. 
What  had  become  of  the  ephemera  and  devil's-needles 
then  ?  Were  they  prudent  enough  to  seek  harbor  be- 
fore the  storm  ?  Perhaps  their  motions  might  guide  the 
voyageur. 

Looking  out  I  perceived  that  the  violent  shower  falling 
on  the  lake  had  almost  instantaneously  flattened  the 
waves,  —  the  commander  of  that  fortress  had  smoothed  it 
for  us  so,  —  and  it  clearing  off,  we  resolved  to  start  imme- 
diately, before  the  wind  raised  them  again. 

Going  outside,  I  said  that  I  saw  clouds  still  in  the 
southwest,  and  heard  thunder  there.  The  Indian  asked 
if  the  thunder  went  "lound"  (round),  saying  that  if  it 
did  we  should  have  more  rain.  I  though^  that  it  did. 
We  embarked,  nevertheless,  and  paddled  rapidly  back 
toward  the  dams.  The  white-throated  sparrows  on  the 
shore  were  about,  singing,  Ah  te,  e,  e,  te,  e,  e,  te,  or  else 
ah  te,  e,  e,  te,  e,  e,  te,  e,  e,  te,  e,  e. 

At  the  outlet  of  Chamberlain  Lake  we  were  overtaken 
by  another  gusty  rain-storm,  which  compelled  us  to  take 
shelter,  the  Indian  under  his  canoe  on  the  bank,  and  we 
ran  under  the  edge  of  the  dam.  However,  we  were 
more  scared  than  wet.  From  my  covert  I  could  see  the 


244  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

Indian  peeping  out  from  beneath  his  canoe  to  see  what 
had  become  of  the  rain.  When  we  had  taken  our  respec- 
tive places  thus  once  or  twice,  the  rain  not  coming  down 
in  earnest,  we  commenced  rambling  about  the  neighbor- 
hood, for  the  wind  had  by  this  time  raised  such  waves 
on  the  lake  that  we  could  not  stir,  and  we  feared  that  we 
should  be  obliged  to  carnp  there.  "We  got  an  early  sup- 
per on  the  dam  and  tried  for  fish  there,  while  waiting  for 
the  tumult  to  subside.  The  fishes  were  not  only  few, 
but  small  and  worthless,  and  the  Indian  declared  that 
there  were  no  good  fishes  in  the  St.  John's  waters ;  that 
we  must  wait  till  we  got  to  the  Penobscot  waters. 

At  length,  just  before  sunset,  we  set  out  again.  It 
was  a  wild  evening  when  we  coasted  up  the  north  side 
of  this  Apmoojenegamook  Lake.  One  thunder-storm 
was  just  over,  and  the  waves  which  it  had  raised  still 
running  with  violence,  and  another  storm  was  now  seen 
coming  up  in  the  southwest,  far  over  the  lake;  but  it 
might  be  worse  in  the  morning,  and  we  wished  to  get  as., 
far  as  possible  on  our  way  up  the  lake  while  we  might. 
It  bio  wed  hard  against  the  northern  shore  about  an 
eighth  of  a  mile  distant  on  our  left,  and  there  was  just  as 
much  sea  as  our  shallow  canoe  would  bear,  without  our 
taking  unusual  care.  That  which  we  kept  off,  and  toward 
which  the  waves  were  driving,  was  as  dreary  and  har- 
borless  a  shore  as  you  can  conceive.  For  half  a  dozen 
rods  in  width  it  was  a  perfect  maze  of  submerged  trees, 
all  dead  and  bare  and  bleaching,  some  standing  half  their 
original  height,  others  prostrate,  and  criss-across,  above 
or  beneath  the  surface,  and  mingled  with  them  were  loose 
trees  and  limbs  and  stumps,  beating  about.  Imagine 
the  wharves  of  the  largest  city  in  the  world,  decayed, 
and  the  earth  and  planking  washed  away,  leaving  the 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  245 

spiles  standing  in  loose  order,  but  often  of  twice  the  ordi- 
nary height,  and  mingled  with  and  beating  against  them 
the  wreck  of  ten  thousand  navies,  all  their  spars  and  tim- 
bers, while  there  rises  from  the  water's  edge  the  densest 
and  grimmest  wilderness,  ready  to  supply  more  material 
when  the  former  fails,  and  you  may  get  a  faint  idea  of 
that  coast.  We  could  not  have  landed  if  we  would, 
without  the  greatest  danger  of  being  swamped  ;  so  blow 
as  it  might,  we  must  depend  on  coasting  by  it.  It  was 
twilight,  too,  and  that  stormy  cloud  was  advancing  rap- 
idly in  our  rear.  It  was  a  pleasant  excitement,  yet  we 
were  glad  to  reach,  at  length,  in  the  dusk,  the  cleared 
shore  of  the  Chamberlain  Farm. 

We  landed  on  a  low  and  thinly  wooded  point  there, 
and  while  my  companions  were  pitching  the  tent,  I  ran 
up  to  the  house  to  get  some  sugar,  our  six  pounds  being 
gone ;  —  it  was  no  wonder  they  were,  for  Polis  had  a  sweet 
tooth.  He  would  first  fill  his  dipper  nearly  a  third  full 
.of  sugar,  and  then  add  the  coffee  to  it.  Here  was  a 
clearing  extending  back  from  the  lake  to  a  hill-top,  with 
some  dark-colored  log  buildings  and  a  storehouse  in  it, 
and  half  a  dozen  men  standing  in  front  of  the  principal 
hut,  greedy  for  news.  Among  them  was  the  man  who 
tended  the  dam  on  the  Allegash  and  tossed  the  bullet. 
He  having  charge  of  the  dams,  and  learning  that  we 
were  going  to  Webster  Stream  the  next  day,  told  me  that 
some  of  their  men,  who  were  haying  at  Telos  Lake,  had. 
shut  the  dam  at  the  canal  there  in  order  to  catch  trout, 
and  if  we  wanted  more  water  to  take  us  through  the 
canal  we  might  raise  the  gate,  for  he  would  like  to  have 
it  raised.  The  Chamberlain  Farm  is  no  doubt  a  cheerful 
opening  in  the  woods,  but  such  was  the  lateness  of  the 
hour  that  it  has  left  but  a  dusky  impression  on  my  mind. 


246  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

As  I  have  said,  the  influx  of  light  merely  is  civilizing, 
yet  I  fancied  that  they  walked  about  on  Sundays  in  their 
clearing  somewhat  as  in  a  prison-yard. 

They  were  unwilling  to  spare  more  than  four  pounds 
of  brown  sugar,  —  unlocking  the  storehouse  to  get  it,  — 
since  they  only  kept  a  little  for  such  cases  as  this,  and 
they  charged  twenty  cents  a  pound  for  it,  which  cer- 
tainly it  was  worth  to  get  it  up  there. 

When  I  returned  to  the  shore  it- was  quite  dark,  but 
we  had  a  rousing  fire  to  warm  and  dry  us  by,  and  a  snug 
apartment  behind  it.  The  Indian  went  up  to  the  house 
to  inquire  after  a  brother  who  had  been  absent  hunting 
a  year  or  two,  and  while  another  shower  was  beginning, 
I  groped  about  cutting  spruce  and  arbor-vitae  twigs  for  a 
bed.  I  preferred  the  arbor-vitae  on  account  of  its  fra- 
grance, and  spread  it  particularly  thick  about  the  shoul- 
ders. It  is  remarkable  with  what  pure  satisfaction  the 
traveller  in  these  woods  will  reach  his  camping-ground 
on  the  eve  of  a  tempestuous  night  like  this,  as  if  he  had 
got  to  his  inn,  and,  rolling  himself  in  his  blanket,  stretch 
himself  on  his  six  feet  by  two  bed  of  dripping  fir-twigs, 
with  a  thin  sheet  of  cotton  for  roof,  snug  as  a  meadow- 
mouse  in  its  nest.  Invariably  our  best  nights  were  those 
when  it  rained,  for  then  we  were  not  troubled  with  mos- 
quitoes. 

You  soon  come  to  disregard  rain  on  such  excursions, 
at  least  in  the  summer,  ft  is  so  easy  to  dry  yourself,  sup- 
posing a  dry  change  of  clothing  is  not  to  be  had.  You 
can  much  sooner  dry  you  by  such  a  fire  as  you  can  make 
in  the  woods  than  in  anybody's  kitchen,  the  fireplace  is  so 
much  larger,  and  wood  so  much  more  abundant.  A  shed- 
shaped  tent  will  catch  and.  reflect  the  heat  like  a  Yankee- 
baker,  and  you  may  be  drying  while  you  are  sleeping. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  247 

Some  who  have  leaky  roofs  in  the  towns  may  have 
been  kept  awake,  but  we  were  soon  lulled  asleep  by  a 
steady,  soaking  rain,  which  lasted  all  night.  To-night,  the 
rain  not  coming  at  once  with  violence,  the  twigs  were 
soon  dried  by  the  reflected  heat. 

WEDNESDAY,  July  29. 

When  we  awoke  it  had  done  raining,  though  it  was 
still  cloudy.  The  fire  was  put  out,  and  the  Indian's 
boots,  which  stood  under  the  eaves  of  the  tent,  were  half 
full  of  water.  He  was  much  more  improvident  in  such 
respects  than  either  of  us,  and  he  had  to  thank  us  for 
keeping  his  powder  dry.  "We  decided  to  cross  the  lake 
at  once,  before  breakfast,  or  while  we  could  ;  and  before 
starting  I  took  the  bearing  of  the  shore  which  we  wished 
to  strike,  S.  S.  E.  about  three  miles  distant,  lest  a  sud- 
den misty  rain  should  conceal  it  when  we  were  midway. 
Though  the  bay  in  which  we  were  was  perfectly  quiet 
and  smooth,  we  found  the  lake  already  wide  awake 
outside,  but  not  dangerously  or  unpleasantly  so ;  never- 
theless, when  you  get  out  on  one  of  those  lakes  in  a  ca- 
noe like  this,  you  do  not  forget  that  you  are  completely 
at  the  mercy  of  the  wind,  and  a  fickle  power  it  is.  The 
playful  waves  may  at  any  time  become  too  rude  for  you 
in  their  sport,  and  play  right  on  over  you.  We  saw  a  few 
she-cor-ways  and  a  fish-hawk  thus  early,  and  after  much 
steady  paddling  and  dancing  over  the  dark  waves  of 
Apmoojenegamook,  we  found  ourselves  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  southern  land,  heard  the  waves  breaking  on 
it,  and  turned  our  thoughts  wholly  to  that  side.  After 
coasting  eastward  along  this  shore  a  mile  or  two,  we 
breakfasted  on  a  rocky  point,  the  first  convenient  place 
that  offered. 

It  was  well  enough  that  we  crossed  thus  early,  for  the 


248  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

waves  now  ran  quite  high,  and  we  should  have  been 
obliged  to  go  round  somewhat,  but  beyond  this  point  we 
had  comparatively  smooth  water.  You  can  commonly 
go  along  one  side  or  the  other  of  a  lake,  when  you  can- 
not cross  it. 

The  Indian  was  looking  at  the  hard-wood  ridges  from 
time  to  time,  and  said  that  he  would  like  to  buy  a  few 
hundred  acres  somewhere  about  this  lake,  asking  our 
advice.  It  was  to  buy  as  near  the  crossing  place  as  pos- 
sible. 

My  companion  and  I  having  a  minute's  discussion  on 
some  point  of  ancient  history,  were  amused  by  the  atti- 
tude which  the  Indian,  who  could  not  tell  what  we  were 
talking  about,  assumed.  He  constituted  himself  umpire, 
and,  judging  by  our  air  and  gesture,  he  very  seriously 
remarked  from  time  to  time,  "  you  beat,"  or  "  he  beat." 

Leaving  a  spacious  bay,  a  northeasterly  prolongation 
of  Chamberlain  Lake,  on  our  left,  we  entered  through  a 
short  strait  into  a  small  lake  a  couple  of  miles  over, 
called  on  the  map  Telasinis,  but  the  Indian  had  no  dis- 
tinct name  for  it,  and  thence  into  Telos  Lake,  which  he 
called  Paytaywecomgomoc,  or  Burnt-Ground  Lake.  This 
curved  round  toward  the  northeast,  and  may  have  been 
three  or  four  miles  long  as  we  paddled.  He  had  not 
been  here  since  1825.  He  did  not  know  what  Telos 
meant ;  thought  it  was  not  Indian.  He  used  the  word 
"  Spokelogan "  (for  an  inlet  in  the  shore  which  led  no- 
where), and  when  I  asked  its  meaning  said  that  there 
was  "  no  Indian  in  'em."  There  was  a  clearing,  with  a 
house  and  barn,  on  the  southwest  shore,  temporarily  oc- 
cupied by  some  men  who  were  getting  the  hay,  as  we 
had  been  told ;  also  a  clearing  for  a  pasture  on  a  hill  on 
the  west  side  of  the  lake. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  249 

"We  landed  on  a  rocky  point  on  the  northeast  side,  to 
look  at  some  Red  Pines  (Pinus.  resinosa),  the  first  we 
had  noticed,  and  get  some  cones,  for  our  few  which  grow 
in  Concord  do  not  bear  any. 

The  outlet  from  the  lake  into  the  East  Branch  of  the 
Penobscot  is  an  artificial  one,  and  it  was  not  very  appar- 
ent where  it  was  exactly,  but  the  lake  ran  curving  far 
up  northeasterly  into  two  narrow  valleys  or  ravines,  as 
if  it  had  for  a  long  time  been  groping  its  way  toward  the 
Penobscot  waters,  or.  remembered  when  ifr  anciently 
flowed  there  ;  by  observing  where  the  horizon  was  lowest, 
and  following  the  longest  of  these,  we  at  length  reached 
the  dam,  having  come  about  a  dozen  miles  from  the  last 
camp.  Somebody  had  left  a  line  set  for  trout,  and  the 
jackknife  with  which  the  bait  had  been  cut  on  the  dam 
beside  it,  an  evidence  that  man  was  near,  and  on  a  de- 
serted log  close  by  a  loaf  of  bread  baked  in  a  Yankee- 
baker.  These  proved  the  property  of  a  solitary  hunter, 
whom  we  soon  met,  and  /dance  and  gun  and  traps 
were  not  far  off.  He  told  us  that  it  was  twenty  miles 
farther  on  our  route  to  the  foot  of  Grand  Lake,  where 
you  could  catch  as  many  trout  as  you  wanted,  and  that 
the  first  house  below  the  foot  of  the  lake,  on  the  East 
Branch,  was  Hunt's,  about  forty-five  miles  farther;  though 
there  was  one  about  a  mile  and  a  half  up  Trout  stream, 
some  fifteen  miles  ahead,  but  it  was  rather  a  blind  route 
to  it.  It  turned  out  that,  though  the  stream  was  in  our 
favor,  we  did  not  reach  the  next  house  till  the  morning 
of  the  third  day  after  this.  The  nearest  permanently  in- 
habited house  behind  us  was  now  a  dozen  miles  distant, 
so  that  the  interval  between  the  two  nearest  houses  on 
our  route  was.  about  sixty  miles. 

This  hunter,  who  was  a  quite  small,  sunburnt  man, 


250  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

having  already  carried  his  canoe  over,  and  baked  his 
loaf,  had  nothing  so  interesting  and  pressing  to  do  as  to 
observe  our  transit.  He  had  been  out  a  month  or  more 
alone.  How  much  more  wild  and  adventurous  his  life 
than  that  of  the  hunter  in  Concord  woods,  who  gets  back 
to  his  house  and  the  mill-dam  every  night !  Yet  they  in 
the  towns  who  have  wild  oats  to  sow  commonly  sow  them 
on  cultivated  and  comparatively  exhausted  ground.  And 
as  for  the  rowdy  world  in  the  large  cities,  so  little  enter- 
prise has  it  that  it  never  adventures  in  this  direction,  but 
like  vermin  clubs  together  in  alleys  and  drinking-saloons, 
its  highest  accomplishment,  perchance,  to  run  beside  a 
fire-engine  and  throw  brickbats.  But  the  former  is  com- 
paratively an  independent  and  successful  man,  getting 
his  living  in  a  way  that  he  likes,  without  disturbing 
his  human  neighbors.  How  much  more  respectable 
also  is  the  life  of  the  solitary  pioneer  or  settler  in  these, 
or  any  woods,  —  having  real  difficulties,  not  of  his  own 
creation,  drawing  his  subsistence  directly  from  nature,  — 
than  that  of  the  helpless  multitudes  in  the  towns  who  de- 
pend on  gratifying  the  extremely  artificial  wants  of  so- 
ciety and  are  thrown  out  of  employment  by  hard  times ! 

Here  for  the  first  time  we  found  the  raspberries  really 
plenty,  —  that  is,  on  passing  the  height  of  land  between 
the  Allegash  and  the  East  Branch  of  the  Penobscot ; 
the  same  was  true  of  the  blueberries. 

Telos  Lake,  the  head  of  the  St.  John  on  this  side,  and 
Webster  Pond,  the  head  of  the  East  Branch  of  the  Penob- 
gcot,  are  only  about  a  mile  apart,  and  they  are  connected 
by  a  ravine,  in  which  but  little  digging  was  required  to 
make  the  water  of  the  former,  which  is  the  highest,  flow 
into  the  latter.  This  canal,  which  is  something  less  than 
a  mile  long  and  about  four  rods  wide,  was  made  a  few 


THE  ALLEGASH  A*JD  EAST  BRANCH.  251 

years  before  my  first  visit  to  Maine.  Since  then  the  lum- 
ber of  the  upper  Allegash  and  its  lakes  has  been  run 
down  the  Penobscot,  that  is,  up  the  Allegash,  which  here 
consists  principally  of  a  chain  of  large  and  stagnant 
lakes,  whose  thoroughfares,  or  river-links,  have  been 
made  nearly  equally  stagnant  by  damming,  and  then 
down  the  Penobscot.  The  rush  of  the  water  has  pro- 
duced such  changes  in  the  canal  that  it  has  now  the 
appearance  of  a  very  rapid  mountain  stream  flowing 
through  a  ravine,  and  you  would  not  suspect  that  any 
digging  had  been  required  to  persuade  the  waters  of  the 
St.  John  to  flow  into  the  Penobscot  here.  It  was  so 
winding  that  one  could  see  but  little  way  down. 

It  is  stated  by  Springer,  in  his  "Forest  Life,"  that 
the  cause  of  this  canal  being  dug  was  this.  According 
to  the  treaty  of  1842  with  Great  Britain,  it  was  agreed 
that  all  the  timber  run  down  the  St.  John,  which  rises 
in  Maine,  "  when  within  the  Province  of  New  Bruns- 
wick ....  shall  be  dealt  with  as  if  it  were  the  produce 
of  the  said  Province,"  which  was  thought  by  our  side  to 
mean  that  it  should  be  free  from  taxation.  Immediately, 
the  Province,  wishing  to  get  something  out  of  the  Yan- 
kees, levied  a  duty  on  all  the  timber  that  passed  down 
the  St.  John ;  but  to  satisfy  its  own  subjects  "  made  a 
corresponding  discount  on  the  stum  page  charged  those 
hauling  timber  from  the  crown  lands."  The  result  was 
that  the  Yankees  made  the  St.  John  run  the  other  way, 
or  down  the  Penobscot,  so  that  the  Province  lost  both 
its  duty  and  its  water,  while  the  Yankees,  being  greatly 
enriched,  had  reason  to  thank  it  for  the  suggestion. 

It  is  wonderful  how  well  watered  this  country  is.  As 
you  paddle  across  a  lake,  bays  will  be  pointed  out  to 
you,  by  following  up  which,  and  perhaps  the  tributary 


252  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

stream  which  empties  in,  you  may,  after  a  short  portage, 
or  possibly,  at  some  seasons,  none  at  all,  get  into  another 
river,  which  empties  far  away  from  the  one  you  are  on. 
Generally,  you  may  go  in  any  direction  in  a  canoe,  by 
making  frequent  but  not  very  long  portages.  You  are 
only  realizing  once  more  what  all  nature  distinctly  re- 
members here,  for  no  doubt  the  waters  flowed  thus  in 
a  former  geological  period,  and  instead  of  being  a  lake 
country,  it  was  an  archipelago.  It  seems  as  if  the  more 
youthful  and  impressible  streams  can  hardly  resist  the 
numerous  invitations  and  temptations  to  leave  their  na- 
tive beds  and  run  down  their  neighbors'  channels. 
Your  carries  are  often  over  half-submerged  ground,  on 
the  dry  channels  of  a  former  period.  In  carrying  from 
one  river  to  another,  I  did  not  go  over  such  high  and 
rocky  ground  as  in  going  about  the  falls  of  the  same 
river.  For  in  the  former  case  I  was  once  lost  in  a 
swamp,  as  I  have  related,  and,  again,  found  an  artificial 
canal  which  appeared  to  be  natural. 

I  remember  once  dreaming  of  pushing  a  canoe  up  the 
rivers  of  Maine,  and  that,  when  I  had  got  so  high  that 
the  channels  were  dry,  I  kept  on  through  the  ravines 
and  gorges,  nearly  as  well  as  before,  by  pushing  a  little 
harder,  and  now  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  dream  was 
partially  realized. 

Wherever  there  is  a  channel  for  water,  there  is  a  road 
for  the  canoe.  The  pilot  of  the  steamer  which  ran  from 
Oldtown  up  the  Penobscot  in  1854  told  me  that  she  drew 
only  fourteen  inches,  and  would  run  easily  in  two  feet  of 
water,  though  they  did  not  like  to.  It  is  said  that  some 
Western  steamers  can  run  on  a  heavy  dew,  whence  we 
can  imagine  what  a  canoe  may  do.  Montresor,  who  was 
sent  from  Quebec  by  the  English  about  1760  to  explore 


"THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  253 

the  route  to  the  Kennebec,  over  which  Arnold  after- 
ward passed,  supplied  the  Penobscot  near  its  source  with 
water  by  opening  the  beaver-dams,  and  he  says,  "  This 
is  often  done."  He  afterward  states  that  the  Governor 
of  Canada -had  forbidden  to  molest  the  beaver  about  the 
outlet  of  the  Kennebec  from  Moosehead  Lake,  on  ac- 
count of  the  service  which  their  dams  did  by  raising  the 
water  for  navigation. 

This  canal,  so  called,  was  a  considerable  and  extremely 
rapid  and  rocky  river.  The  Indian  decided  that  there 
was  water  enough  in  it  without  raising  the  dam,  which 
would  only  make  it  more  violent,  and  that  he  would  run 
down  it  alone,  while  we  carried  the  greater  part  of  the 
baggage.  Our  provision  being  about  half  consumed, 
there  was  the  less  left  in  the  canoe.  We  had  thrown 
away  the  pork-keg,  and  wrapt  its  contents  in  birch  bark, 
which  is  the  unequalled  wrapping-paper  of  the  woods. 

Following  a  moist  trail  through  the  forest,  we  reached 
the  head  of  Webster  Pond  about  the  same  time  with  the 
Indian,  notwithstanding  the  velocity  with  which  he 
moved,  our  route  being  the  most  direct.  The  Indian 
name  of  Webster  Stream,  of  which  this  pond  is  the 
source,  is,  according  to  him,  Madurikchunk,  i.  e.  Height 
of  Land,  and  of  the  pond,  Madunkchunk-gamooc,  or 
Height  of  Land  Pond.  The  latter  was  two  or  three 
miles  long.  We  passed  near  a  pine  on  its  shore  which 
had  been  splintered  by  lightning,  perhaps  the  day  before. 
This  was  the  first  proper  East  Branch  Penobscot  water 
that  we  came  to. 

At  the  outlet  of  Webster  Lake  was  another  dam,  at 
which  we  stopped  and  picked  raspberries,  while  the  In- 
dian went  down  the  stream  a  half-mile  through  the  for- 
est, to  see  what  he  had  got  to  contend  with.  There  was 


254  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

a  deserted  log  camp  here,  apparently  used  the  previous 
winter,  with  its  "  hovel "  or  barn  for  cattle.  In  the  hut 
was  a  large  fir-twig  bed,  raised  two  feet  from  the  floor, 
occupying  a  large  part  of  the  single  apartment,  a  long 
narrow  table  against  the  wall,  with  a  stout  log  bench  be- 
fore it,  and  above  the  table  a  small  window,  the  only  one 
there  was,  which  admitted  a  feeble  light.  It  was  a  sim 
pie  and  strong  fort  erected  against  the  cold,  and  suggested 
what  valiant  trencher  work  had  been  done  there.  I  dis- 
covered one  or  two  curious  wooden  traps,  which  had  not 
been  used  for  a  long  time,  in  the  woods  near  by.  The 
principal  part  consisted  of  a  long  and  slender  pole. 

We  got  our  dinner  on  the  shore,  on  the  upper  side  of 
the  dam.  As  we  were  sitting  by  our  fire,  concealed  by 
the  earth  bank  of  the  dam,  a  long  line  of  sheldrake, 
half  grown,  came  waddling  over  it  from  the  water  below, 
passing  within  about  a  rod  of  us,  so  that  -we  could  almost 
have  caught  them  in  our  hands.  They  were  very  abun- 
dant on  all  the  streams  and  lakes  which  we  visited,  and 
every  two  or  three  hours  they  would  rush  away  in  a  long 
string  over  the  water  before  us,  twenty  to  fifty  of  them 
at  once,  rarely  ever  flying,  but  running  with  great  rapid- 
ity up  or  down  the  stream,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  most 
violent  rapids,  and  apparently  as  fast  up  as  down,  or  else 
crossing  diagonally,  the  old,  as  it  appeared,  behind,  and 
driving  them,  and  flying  to  the  front  from  time  to  time, 
as  if  to  direct  them.  We  also  saw  many  small  black 
dippers,  which  behaved  in  a  similar  manner,  and,  once 
or  twice,  a  few  black  ducks. 

An  Indian  at  Oldtown  had  told  us  that  we  should  be 
obliged  to  carry  ten  miles  between  Telos  Lake  on  the 
St.  John's  and  Second  Lake  on  the  East  Branch  of  the 
Penobscot ;  but  the  lumberers  whom  we  met  assured  us 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  255 

that  there  would  not  be  more  than  a  mile  of  carry.  It 
turned  out  that  the  Indian,  who  had  lately  been  over 
this  route,  was  nearest  right,  as  far  as  we  were  concerned. 
However,  if  one  of  us  could  have  assisted  the  Indian  in 
managing  the  canoe  in  the  rapids,  we  might  have  run 
the  greater  part  of  the  way ;  but  as  he  was  alone  in  the 
management  of  the  canoe  in  such  places,  we  were  obliged 
to  walk  the  greater  part.  I  did  not  feel  quite  ready  to 
try  such  an  experiment  on  Webster  Stream,  which  has 
so  bad  a  reputation.  According  to  my  observation,  a 
bateau,  properly  manned,  shoots  rapids  as  a  matter  of 
course,  which  a  single  Indian  with  a  canoe  carries  round. 

My  companion  and  I  carried  a  good  part  of  the  bag- 
gage on  our  shoulders,  while  the  Indian  took  that  which 
would  be  least  injured  by  wet  in  the  canoe.  We  did 
not  know  when  we  should  see  him  again,  for  he  had  not 
been  this  way  since  the  canal  was  cut,  nor  for  more  than 
thirty  years.  He  agreed  to  stop  when  he  got  to  smooth 
water,  come  up  and  find  our  path  if  he  could,  and  halloo 
for  us,  and  after  waiting  a  reasonable  time  go  on  and 
try  again,  —  and  we  were  to  look  out  in  like  manner 
for  him. 

He  commenced  by  running  through  the  sluice-way 
and  over  the  dam,  as  usual,  standing  up  in  his  tossing 
canoe,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight  behind  a  point  in  a  wild 
gorge.  This  Webster  Stream  is  well  known  to  lumber- 
men as  a  difficult  one.  It  is  exceedingly  rapid  and 
rocky,  and  also  shallow,  and  can  hardly  be  considered 
navigable,  unless  that  may  mean  that  what  is  launched 
in  it  is  sure  to  be  carried  swiftly  down  it,  though  it  may 
be  dashed  to  pieces  by  the  way.  It  is  somewhat  like 
navigating  a  thunder-spout.  With  commonly  an  irre- 
sistible force  urging  you  on,  you  have  got  to  choose  your 


256  -THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

own  course  each  moment,  between  the  rocks  and  shal- 
lows, and  to  get  into  it,  moving  forward  always  with 
the  utmost  possible  moderation,  and  often  holding  on,  if 
you  can,  that  you  may  inspect  the  rapids  before  you. 

By  the  Indian's  direction  we  took  an  old  path  on  the 
south  side,  which  appeared  to  keep  down  the  stream, 
though  at  a  considerable  distance  from  it,  cutting  off 
bends,  perhaps  to  Second  Lake,  having  first  taken  the 
course  from  the  map  with  a  compass,  which  was  north- 
easterly, for  safety.  It  was  a  wild  wood-path,  with  a  few 
tracks  of  oxen  which  had  been  driven  over  it,  probably 
to  some  old  camp  clearing,  for  pasturage,  mingled  with 
the  tracks  of  moose  which  had  lately  used  it.  We  kept  on 
steadily  for  about  an  hour  without  putting  down  our  packs, 
occasionally  winding  around  or  climbing  over  a  fallen  tree, 
for  the  most  part  far  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  the  riv- 
er ;  till,  after  walking  about  three  miles,  we  were  glad  to 
find  that  the  path  came  to  the  river  again  at  an  old  camp 
ground,  where  there  was  a  small  opening  in  the  forest, 
at  which  we  paused.  •  Swiftly  as  the  shallow  and  rocky 
river  ran  here,  a  continuous  rapid  with  dancing  waves,  I 
saw,  as  I  sat  on  the  shore,  a  long  string  of  sheldrakes, 
which  something  scared,  run  up  the  opposite  side  of  the 
stream  by  me,  with  the  same  ease  that  they  commonly 
did  down  it,  just  touching  the  surface  of  the  waves,  and 
getting  an  impulse  from  them  as  they  flowed  from  under 
them ;  but  they  soon  came  back,  driven  by  the  Indian, 
who  had  fallen  a  little  behind  us,  on  account  of  the  wind- 
ings. He  shot  round  a  point  just  above,  and  came  to 
land  by  us  with  considerable  water  in  his  canoe.  He 
had  found  it,  as  he  said,  "  very  strong  water,"  and  had 
been  obliged  to  land  once  before  to  empty  out  what  he 
had  taken  in.  He  complained  that  it  strained  him  to 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  257 

paddle  so  hard  in  order  to  keep  his  canoe  straight  in  its 
course,  having  no  one  in  the  bows  to  aid  him,  and,  shal- 
low as  it  was,  said  that  it  would  be  no  joke  to  upset 
there,  for  the  force  of  the  water  was  such  that  he  had  as 
lief  I  would  strike  him  over  the  head  with  a  paddle  as 
have  that  water  strike  him.  Seeing  him  come  out  of  that 
gap  was  as  if  you  should  pour  water  down  an  inclined 
and  zigzag  trough,  then  drop  a  nutshell  into  it,  and  tak- 
ing a  short  cut  to  the  bottom,  get  there  in  time  to  see  it 
come  out,  notwithstanding  the  rush  and  tumult,  right 
side  up,  and  only  partly  full  of  water. 

After  a  moment's  breathing  space,  while  I  held  his  ca- 
noe, he  was  soon  out  of  sight  again  around  another  bend, 
and  we,  shouldering  our  packs,  resumed  our  course. 

We  did  not  at  once  fall  into  our  paths  again,  but  made 
our  way  with  difficulty  along  the  edge  of  the  river,  till  at 
length,  striking  inland  through  the  forest,  we  recovered 
it.  Before  going  a  mile  we  heard  the  Indian  calling  to 
us.  He  had  come  up  through  the  woods  and  along  the 
path  to  find  us,  having  reached  sufficiently  smooth  water 
to  warrant  his  taking  us  in.  The  shore  was  about  one 
fourth  of  a  mile  distant,  through  a  dense,  dark  forest,  and 
as  he  led  us  back  to  it,  winding  rapidly  about  to  the 
right  and  left,  I  had  the  curiosity  to  look  down  carefully, 
and  found  that  he  was  following  his  steps  backward.  I 
could  only  occasionally  perceive  his  trail  in  the  moss, 
and  yet  he  did  not  appear  to  look  down  nor  hesitate  an 
instant,  but  led  us  out  exactly  to  his  canoe.  This  sur- 
prised me,  for  without  a  compass,  or  the  sight  or  noise 
of  the  river  to  guide  us,  we  could  not  have  kept  our 
course  many  minutes,  and  could  have  retraced  our  steps 
but  a  short  distance,  with  a  great  deal  of  pains  and  very 
slowly,  using  a  laborious  circumspection.  But  it  was 

Q 


258  -THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

evident  that  he  could  go  back  through  the  forest  wher- 
ever he  had  been  during  the  day. 

After  this  rough  walking  in  the  dark  woods  it  was  an 
agreeable  change  to  glide  down  the  rapid  river  in  the 
canoe  once  more.  This  river,  which  was  about  the  size 
of  our  Assabet  (in  Concord),  though  still  very  swift,  was 
almost  perfectly  smooth  here,  and  showed  a  very  visible 
declivity,  a  regularly  inclined  plane,  for  several  miles, 
like  a  mirror  set  a  little  aslant,  on  which  we  coasted 
down.  This  very  obvious  regular  descent,  particularly 
plain  when  I  regarded  the  water-line  against  the  shores, 
made  a  singular  impression  on  me,  which  the  swiftness 
of  our  motion  probably  enhanced,  so  that  we  seemed  to 
be  gliding  down  a  much  steeper  declivity  than  we  were, 
and  that  we  could  not  save  ourselves  from  rapids  and 
falls  if  we  should  suddenly  come  to  them.  My. compan- 
ion did  not  perceive  this  slope,  but  I  have  a  surveyor's 
eyes,  and  I  satisfied  myself  that  it  was  no  ocular  illusion. 
You  could  tell  at  a  glance  on  approaching  such  a  river, 
which  .way  the  water  flowed,  though  you  might  perceive 
no  motion.  I  observed  the  angle  at  which  a  level  line 
would  strike  the  surface,  and  calculated  the  amount  of 
fall  in  a  rod,  which  did  not  need  to  be  remarkably  great 
to  produce  this  effect. 

It  was  very  exhilarating,  and  the  perfection  of  trav- 
elling, quite  unlike  floating  on  our  dead  Concord  River, 
the  coasting  down  this  inclined  mirror,  which  was  now 
and  then  gently  winding,  down  a  mountain,  indeed,  be- 
tween two  evergreen  forests,  edged  with  lofty  dead 
white  pines,  sometimes  slanted  half-way  over  the  stream, 
and  destined  soon  to  bridge  it.  I  saw  some  monsters 
there,  nearly  destitute  of  branches,  and  scarcely  dimin- 
ishing in  diameter  for  eighty  or  ninety  feet. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST'BKANCH.     259 

As  we  thus  swept  along,  our  Indian  repeated  in  a 
deliberate  and  drawling  tone  the  words  "  Daniel  Webster, 
great  lawyer,"  apparently  reminded  of  him  by  the  name 
of  the  stream,  and  he  described  his  calling  on  him  once 
in  Boston,  at  what  he  supposed  was  his  boarding-house. 
He  had  no  business  with  him,  but  merely  went  to  pay 
his  respects,  as  we  should  say.  In  answer  to  our  ques- 
tions, he  described  his  person  well  enough.  It  was  on 
the  day  after  Webster  delivered  his  Bunker  Hill  oration, 
which  I  believe  Polis-  heard.  The  first  time  he  called 
he  waited  till  he  was  tired  without  seeing  him,  and  then 
went  away.  The  next  time,  he  saw  him  go  by  the  door 
of  the  room  in  which  he  was  waiting  several  times,  in 
his  shirt-sleeves,  without  noticing  him.  He  thought  that 
if  he  had  come  to  see  Indians,  they  would  not  have  treated 
him  so.  At  length,  after  very  long  delay,  he  came  in, 
walked  toward  him,  and  asked  in  a  loud  voice,  gruffly, 
"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  and  he,  thinking  at  first,  by  the 
motion  of  his  hand,  that  he  was  going  to  strike  him,  said 
to  himself,  "  You  'd  better  take  care,  if  you  try  that  I 
shall  know  what  to  do."  He  did  not  like  him,  and  de- 
clared that  all  he  said  "was  not  worth  talk  about  a 
musquash."  We  suggested  that  probably  Mr.  Webster 
was  very  busy,  and  had  a  great  many  visitors  just  then. 

Coming  to  falls  and  rapids,  our  easy  progress  was  sud- 
denly terminated.  The  Indian  went  along  shore  to  in- 
spect the  water,  while  we  climbed  over  the  rocks,  picking 
berries.  The  peculiar  growth  of  blueberries  on  the  tops 
of  large  rocks  here  made  the  impression  of  high  land, 
and  indeed  this  was  the  Height-of-land  stream.  When 
the  Indian  came  back,  he  remarked,  "  You  got  to  walk  ; 
ver  strong  water."  So,  taking  out  his  canoe,  he  launched 
it  again  below  the  falls,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight.  At 


260  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

such  times,  he  would  step  into  the  canoe,  take  up  his 
paddle,  and,  with  an  air  of  mystery,  start  off,  looking  far 
down  stream,  and  keeping  his  own  counsel,  as  if  absorb- 
ing all  the  intelligence  of  forest  and  stream  into  himself; 
but  I  sometimes  detected  a  little  fun  in  his  face,  which 
could  yield  to  my  sympathetic  smile,  for  he  was  thor- 
oughly good-humored.  We  meanwhile  scrambled  along 
the  shore  with  our  packs,  without  any  path.  This  was 
the  last  of  our  boating  for  the  day. 

The  prevailing  rock  here  was  a  kind  of  slate,  standing 
on  its  edges,  and  my  companion,  who  was  recently  from 
California,  thought  it  exactly  like  that  in  which  the  gold 
is  found,  and  said  that  if  he  had  had  a  pan  he  would  have 
liked  to  wash  a  little  of  the  sand  here. 

The  Indian  now  got  along  much  faster  than  we,  and 
waited  for  us  from  time  to  time.  I  found  here  the  only 
cool  spring  that  I  drank  at  anywhere  on  this  excursion, 
a  little  water  filling  a  hollow  in  the  sandy  bank.  It  was 
a  quite  memorable  event,  and  due  to  the  elevation  of  the 
country,  for  wherever  else  we  had  been  the  water  in  the 
rivers  and  the  streams  emptying  in  was  dead  and  warm, 
compared  with  that  of  a  mountainous  region.  It  was 
very  bad  walking  along  the  shore  over  fallen  and  drifted 
trees  and  bushes,  and  rocks,  from  time  to  time  swinging 
ourselves  round  over  the  water,  or  else  taking  to  a  gravel 
bar  or  going  inland.  At  one  place,  the  Indian  being 
ahead,  I  was  obliged  to  take  off  all  my  clothes  in  order 
to  ford  a  small  but  deep  stream  emptying  in,  while  my 
companion,  who  was  inland,  found  a  rude  bridge,  high  up 
in  the  woods,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  him  for  some  time. 
I  saw  there  very  fresh  moose  tracks,  found  a  new  golden- 
rod  to  me  (perhaps  Solidago  thyrsoidea),  and  I  passed 
one  white-pine  log,  which  had  lodged,  in  the  forest  near 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  261 

the  edge  of  the  stream,  which  was  quite  five  feet  in 
diameter  at  the  but.     Probably  its  size  detained  it. 

Shortly  after  this,  I  overtook  the  Indian  at  the  edge  of 
some  burnt  land,  which  extended  three  or  four  miles  at 
least,  beginning  about  three  miles  above  Second  Lake, 
which  we  were  expecting  to  reach  that  night,  and  which 
is  about  ten  miles  from  Telos  Lake.  This  burnt  region 
was  still  more  rocky  than  before,  but,  though  compara- 
tively open,  we  could  not  yet  see  the  lake.  Not  having 
seen  my  companion  for  some  time,  I  climbed,  with  the 
Indian,  a  singular  high  rock  on  the  edge  of  the  river, 
forming  a  narrow  ridge  only  a  foot  or  two  wide  at  top,  in 
order  to  look  for  him  ;  and  after  calling  many  times,  I  at 
length  heard  him  answer  from  a  considerable  distance  in- 
land, he  having  taken  a  trail  which  led  off  from  the  river, 
perhaps  directly  to  the  lake,  and  was  now  in  search  of  the 
river  again.  Seeing  a  much  higher  rock,  of  the  same 
character,  about  one  third  of  a  mile  farther  east,  or  down 
stream,  I  proceeded  toward  it,  through  the  burnt  land,  in 
order  to  look  for  the  lake  from  its  summit,  supposing  that 
the  Indian  would  keep  down  the  stream  in  his  canoe,  and 
hallooing  all  the  while  that  my  companion  might  join  me 
on  the  way.  Before  we  came  together,  I  noticed  where 
a  moose,  which  possibly  I  had  scared  by  my  shouting, 
had  apparently  just  run  along  a  large  rotten  trunk  of  a 
pine,  which  made  a  bridge,  thirty  or  forty  feet  long,  over 
a  hollow,  as  convenient  for  him  as  for  me.  The  tracks 
were  as  large  as  those  of  an  ox,  but  an  ox  could  not  have 
crossed  there.  This  burnt  land  was  an  exceedingly  wild 
and  desolate  region.  Judging  by  the  weeds  and  sprouts, 
it  appeared  to  have  been  burnt  about  two  years  before. 
It  was  covered  with  charred  trunks,  either  prostrate  or 
standing,  which  crocked  our  clothes  and  hands,  and  we 


262  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

could  not  easily  have  distinguished  a  bear  there  by  his 
color.  Great  shells  of  trees,  sometimes  unburnt  without, 
or  burnt  on  one  side  only,  but  black  within,  stood  twenty 
or  forty  feet  high.  The  fire  had  run  up  inside,  as  in  a 
chimney,  leaving  the  sap-wocd.  Sometimes  we  crossed 
a  rocky  ravine  fifty  feet  wide,  on  a  fallen  trunk  ;  and  there 
were  great  fields  of  fire-weed  (EpiloUum  angusti folium) 
on  all  sides,  the  most  extensive  that  I  ever  saw,  which 
presented  great  masses  of  pink.  Intermixed  with  these 
were  blueberry  and  raspberry  bushes. 

Having  crossed  a  second  rocky  ridge,  like  the  first, 
when  I  was  beginning  to  ascend  the  third,  the  Indian, 
whom  I  had  left  on  the  shore  some  fifty  rods  behind, 
beckoned  to  me  to  come  to  him,  but  I  made  sign  that  I 
would  first  ascend  the  highest  rock  before  me,  whence  I 
expected  to  see  the  lake.  My  companion  accompanied 
me  to  the  top.  This  was  formed  just  like  the  others. 
Being  struck  with  the  perfect  parallelism  of  these  sin- 
gular rock-hills,  however  much  one  might  be  in  advance 
of  another,  I  took  out  my  compass  and  found  that  they 
lay  northwest  and  southeast,  the  rock  being  on  its  edge, 
and  sharp  edges  they  were.  This  one,  to  speak  from 
memory,  was  perhaps  a  third  of  a  mile  in  length,  but 
quite  narrow,  rising  gradually  from  the  northwest  to  the 
height  of  about  eighty  feet,  but  steep  on  the  southeast 
end.  The  southwest  side  was  as  steep  as  an  ordinary 
roof,  or  as  we  could  safely  climb ;  the  northeast  was  an 
abrupt  precipice  from  which  you  could  jump  clean  to  the 
bottom,  near  which  the  river  flowed  ;  while  the  level  top 
of  the  ridge,  on  which  you  walked  along,  was  only  from 
one  to  three  or  four  feet  in  width.  For  a  rude  illustra- 
tion, take  the  half  of  a  pear  cut  in  two  lengthwise,  lay  it 
on  its  flat  side,  the  stem  to  the  northwest,  and  then  halve 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  263 

it  vertically  in  the  direction  of  its  length,  keeping  the 
southwest  half.     Such  was  the  general  form. 

There  was  a  remarkable  series  of  these  great  rock- 
waves  revealed  by  the  burning ;  breakers,  as  it  were.  No 
wonder  that  the  river  that  found  its  way  through  them 
was  rapid  and  obstructed  by  falls.  No  doubt  the  absence 
of  soil  on  these  rocks,  or  its  dryness  where  there  was  any, 
caused  this  to  be  a  very  thorough  burning.  We  could 
see  the  lake  over  the  woods,  two  or  three  miles  ahead, 
and  that  the  river  made  an  abrupt  turn  southward  around 
the  northwest  end  of  the  cliff  on  which  we  stood,  or  a 
little  above  us,  so  that  we  had  cut  off  a  bend,  and  that 
there  was  an  important  fall  in  it  a  short  distance  below 
us.  I  could  see  the  canoe  a  hundred  rods  behind,  but 
now  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  supposed  that  the  Indian 
had  concluded  to  take  out  and  carry  round  some  bad 
rapids  on  that  side,  and  that  that  might  be  what  he  had 
beckoned  to  me  for;  but  after  waiting  a  while  I  could  still 
see  nothing  of  him,  and  I  observed  to  my  companion  that 
I  wondered  where  he  was,  though  I  began  to  suspect 
that  he  had  gone  inland  to  look  for  the  lake  from  some 
hill-top  on  that  side,  as  we  had  done.  This  proved  to  be 
the  case ;  for  after  I  had  started  to  return  to  the  canoe, 
I  heard  a  faint  halloo,  and  descried  him  on  the  top  of  a 
distant  rocky  hill  on  that  side.  But  as,  after  a  long  time 
had  elapsed,  I  still  saw  his  canoe  in  the  same  place,  and 
he  had  not  returned  to  it,  and  appeared  in  no  hurry  to  do 
so,  and,  moreover,  as  I  remembered  that  he  had  previ- 
ously beckoned  to  me,  I  thought  that  there  might  be 
something  more  to  delay  him  than  I  knew,  and  began  to 
return  northwest,  along  the  ridge,  toward  the  angle  in 
the  river.  My  companion,  who  had  just  been  separated 
from  us,  and  had  even  contemplated  the  necessity  of 


264  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

camping  alone,  wishing  to  husband  his  steps,  and  yet 
to  keep  with  us,  inquired  where  I  was  going  ;  to  which  I 
answered,  that  I  was  going  far  enough  back  to  communi- 
cate with  the  Indian,  and  that  then  I  thought  we  had  bet- 
ter go  along  the  shore  together,  and  keep  him  in  sight. 

When  we  reached  the  shore,  the  Indian  appeared  from 
out  the  woods  on  the  opposite  side,  but  on  account  of  the 
roar  of  the  water  it  was  difficult  to  communicate  with 
him.  He  kept  along  the  shore  westward  to  his  canoe, 
while  we  stopped  at  the  angle  where  the  stream  turned 
southward  around  the  precipice.  I  again  said  to  my 
companion,  that  we  would  keep  along  the  shore  and 
keep  the  Indian  in  sight.  We  started  to  do  so,  being 
'close  together,  the  Indian  behind  us  having  launched 
his  canoe  again,  but  just  then  I  saw  the  latter,  who  had 
crossed  to  our  side,  forty  or  fifty  rods  behind,  beckoning 
to  me,  and  I  called  to  my  companion,  who  had  just  dis- 
appeared behind  large  rocks  at  the  point  of  the  precipice, 
three  or  four  rods  before  me,  on  his  way  down  the  stream, 
that  I  was  going  to  help  the  Indian  a  moment.  I  did  so, 
—  helped  get  the  canoe  over  a  fall,  lying  with  my  breast 
over  a  rock,  and  holding  one  end  while  he  received  it 
below,  —  and  within  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  at  most  I  was 
back  again  at  the  point  where  the  river  turned  south- 
ward, in  order  to  catch  up  with  my  companion,  while 
Polis  glided  down  the  river  alone,  parallel  with  me.  But 
to  my  surprise,  when  I  rounded  the  precipice,  though  the 
shore  was  bare  of  trees,  without  rocks,  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  at  least,  my  companion  was  not  to  be  seen.  It  was 
as  if  he  had  sunk  into  the  earth.  This  was  the  more  un- 
accountable to  me,  because  I  knew  that  his  feet  were 
since  our  swamp  walk  very  sore,  and  that  he  wished  to 
keep  with  the  party ;  and  besides  this  was  very  bad  walk- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  265 

ing,  climbing  over  or  about  the  rocks.  I  hastened  along, 
hallooing  and  searching  for  him,  thinking  he  might  be 
concealed  behind  a  rock,  yet  doubting  if  he  had  not  taken 
the  other  side  of  the  precipice,  but  the  Indian  had  got 
along  still  faster  in  his  canoe,  till  he  was  arrested  by  the 
falls,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below.  He  then  landed, 
and  said  that  we  could  go  no  farther  that  night.  The 
sun  was  setting,  and  on  account  of  falls  and  rapids  we 
should  be  obliged  to  leave  this  river  and  carry  a  good 
way  into  another  farther  east.  The  first  thing  then  was 
to  find  my  companion,  for  I  was  now  very  much  alarmed 
about  him,  and  I  sent  the  Indian  along  the  shore  down 
stream,  which  began  to  be  covered  with  unburnt  wood 
again  just  below  the  falls,  while  I  searched  backward 
about  the  precipice  which  we  had  passed.  The  Indian 
showed  some  unwillingness  to  exert  himself,  complaining 
that  he  was  very  tired,  in  consequence  of  his  day's  work, 
that  it  had  strained  him  very  much  getting  down  so 
many  rapids  alone;  but  he  went  off  calling  somewhat  like 
an  owl.  I  remembered  that  my  companion  was  near- 
sighted, and  I  feared  that  he  had  either  fallen  from  the 
precipice,  or  fainted  and  sunk  down  amid  the  rocks  be- 
neath it.  I  shouted  and  searched  above  and  below  this 
precipice  in  the  twilight  till  I  could  not  see,  expecting 
nothing  less  than  to  find  his  body  beneath  it.  For  half 
an  hour  I  anticipated  and  believed  only  the  worst.  I 
thought  what  I  should  do  the  next  day,  if  I  did  not 
find  him,  what  I  could  do  in  such  a  wilderness,  and  how 
his  relatives  would  feel,  if  I  should  return  without  him. 
I  felt  that  if  he  were  really  lost  away  from  the  river 
there,  it  would  be  a  desperate  undertaking  to  find  him; 
and  where  were  they  who  could  help  you  ?  What  would 
it  be  to  raise  the  country,  where  there  were  only  two 
12 


266  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

or  three  camps,  twenty  or  thirty  miles  apart,  and  no 
road,  and  perhaps  nobody  at  home  ?  Yet  we  must  try 
the  harder,  the  less  the  prospect  of  success. 

I  rushed  down  from  this  precipice  to  the  canoe  in 
order  to  fire  the  Indian's  gun,  but  found  that  my  com- 
panion had  the  caps.  I  was  still  thinking  of  getting  it 
off  when  the  Indian  returned.  He  had  not  found  him, 
but  he  said  that  he  had  seen  his  tracks  once  or  twice 
along  the  shore.  This  encouraged  me  very  much.  He 
objected  to  firing  the  gun,  saying  that  if  my  companion 
heard  it,  which  was  not  likely,  on  account  of  the  roar  of 
the  stream,  it  would  tempt  him  to  come  toward  us,  and 
he  might  break  his  neck  in  the  dark.  For  the  same  rea- 
son we  refrained  from  lighting  a  fire  on  the  highest  rock. 
I  proposed  that  we  should  both  keep  down  the  stream  to 
the  lake,  or  that  I  should  go  at  any  rate,  but  the  Indian 
said,  "  No  use,  can't  do  anything  in  the  dark ;  come  morn- 
ing, then  we  find  'em.  No  harm,  —  he  make  'em  camp. 
No  bad  animals  here,  no  gristly  bears,  such  as  in  Califor- 
nia, where  he  's  been,  —  warm  night,  —  he  well  off  as 
you  and  I."  I  considered  that  if  he  was  well  he  could  do 
without  us.  He  had  just  lived  eight  years  in  California, 
and  had  plenty  of  experience  with  wild  beasts  and  wilder 
men,  was  peculiarly  accustomed  to  make  journeys  of 
great  length,  but  if  he  were  sick  or  dead,  he  was  near 
where  we  were.  The  darkness  in  the  woods  was  by  this  so 
thick  that  it  alone  decided  the  question.  We  must  camp 
where  we  were.  I  knew  that  he  had  his  knapsack,  with 
blankets  and  matches,  and,  if  well,  would  fare  no  worse 
than  we,  except  that  he  would  have  no  supper  nor  society. 

This  side  of  the  river  being  so  encumbered  with  rocks, 
we  crossed  to  the  eastern  or  smoother  shore,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  camp  there,  within  two  or  three  rods  of  the 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BKANCH.    '        267 

Falls.  We  pitched  no  tent,  but  lay  on  the  sand,  putting 
a  few  handfuls  of  grass  and  twigs  under  us,  there  being 
no  evergreen  at  hand.  For  fuel  we  had  some  of  the 
charred  stumps.  Our  various  bags  of  provisions  had  got 
quite  wet  in  the  rapids,  and  I  arranged  them  about  the 
fire  to  dry.  The  fall  close  by  was  the  principal  one  on 
this  stream,  and  it  shook  the  earth  under  us.  It  was  a 
cool,  because  dewy,  night ;  the  more  so,  probably,  owing 
to  the  nearness  of  the  falls.  The  Indian  complained  a 
good  deal,  and  thought  afterward  that  he  got  a  cold  there 
which  occasioned  a  more  serious  illness.  We  were  not 
much  troubled  by  mosquitoes  at  any  rate.  I  lay  awake  a 
good  deal  from  anxiety,  but,  unaccountably  to  myself,  was 
at  length  comparatively  at  ease  respecting  him.  At  first 
I  had  apprehended  the  worst,  but  now  I  had  little  doubt 
but  that  I  should  find  him  in  the  morning.  From  time 
to  time  I  fancied  that  I  heard  his  voice  calling  through 
the  roar  of  the  falls  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  river ; 
but  it  is  doubtful  if  we  could  have  heard  him  across  the 
stream  there.  Sometimes  I  doubted  whether  the  Indian 
had  really  seen  his  tracks,  since  he  manifested  an  un- 
willingness to  make  much  of  a  search,  and  then  my  anx- 
iety returned. 

It  was  the  most  wild  and  desolate  region  we  had 
camped  in,  where,  if  anywhere,  one  might  expect  to  meet 
with  befitting  inhabitants,  but  I  heard  only  the  squeak  of 
a  night-hawk  flitting  over.  The  moon  in  her  first  quar- 
ter, in  the  fore  part  of  the  night,  setting  over  the  bare 
rocky  hills,  garnished  with  tall,  charred,  and  hollow  stumps 
or  shells  of  trees,  served  to  reveal  the  desolation. 

THURSDAY,  July  30. 
I  aroused  the  Indian  early  this  morning  to  go  in  search 


268  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

of  our  companion,  expecting  to  find  him  within  a  mile  or 
two,  farther  down  the  stream.  The  Indian  wanted  his 
breakfast  first,  but  I  reminded  him  that  my  companion 
had  had  neither  breakfast  nor  supper.  We  were  obliged 
first  to  carry  our  canoe  and  baggage  over  into  another 
stream,  the  main  East  Branch,  about  three  fourths  of  a 
mile  distant,  for  Webster  Stream  was  no  farther  navi- 
gable. We  went  twice  over  this  carry,  and  the  dewy 
bushes  wet  us  through  like  water  up  to  the  middle ;  I 
hallooed  in  a  high  key  from  time  to  time,  though  I  had 
little  expectation  that  I  could  be  heard  over  the  roar  of 
the  rapids,  and  moreover  we  were  necessarily  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  stream  to  him.  In  going  over  this 
portage  the  last  time,  the  Indian,  who  was  before  me 
with  the  canoe  on  his  head,  stumbled  and  fell  heavily 
once,  and  lay  for  a  moment  silent,  as  if  in  pain.  I  hastily 
stepped  forward  to  help  him,  asking  if  he  was  much  hurt, 
but  after  a  moment's  pause,  without  replying,  he  sprang 
up  and  went  forward.  He  was  all  the  way  subject  to 
taciturn  fits,  but  they  were  harmless  ones. 

We  had  launched  our  canoe  and  gone  but  little  way 
down  the  East  Branch,  when  I  heard  an  answering  shout 
from  my  companion,  and  soon  after  saw  him  standing  on 
a  point  where  there  was  a  clearing  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below,  and  the  smoke  of  his  fire  was  rising  near  by. 
Before  I  saw  him  I  naturally  shouted  again  and  again, 
but  the  Indian  curtly  remarked,  "  He  hears  you,"  as  if 
once  was  enough.  It  was  just  below  the  mouth  of 
Webster  Stream.  When  we  arrived,  he  was  smoking  his 
pipe,  and  said  that  he  had  passed  a  pretty  comfortable 
night,  though  it  was  rather  cold,  on  account  of  the  dew. 

It  appeared  that  when  we  stood  together  the  previous 
evening,  and  I  was  shouting  to  the  Indian  across  the 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  269 

river,  he,  being  near-sighted,  had  not  seen  the  Indian  nor 
his  canoe,  and  when  I  went  back  to  the  Indian's  assist- 
ance, did  not  see  which  way  I  went,  and  supposed  that 
we  were  below  and  not  above  him,  and  so,  making  haste 
to  catch  up,  he  ran  away  from  us.  Having  reached  this 
clearing,  a  mile  or  more  below  our  camp,  the  night  over- 
took him,  and  he  made  a  fire  in  a  little  hollow,  and  lay 
down  by  it  in  his  blanket,  still  thinking  that  we  were 
ahead  of  him.  He  thought  it  likely  that  he  had  heard 
the  Indian  call  once  the  evening  before,  but  mistook  it  for 
an  owl.  He  had  seen  one  botanical  rarity  before  it  was 
dark,  —  pure  white  Epilobium  angustifolium  amidst  the 
fields  of  pink  ones,  in  the  burnt  lands.  He  had  already 
stuck  up  the  remnant  of  a  lumberer's  shirt,  found  on  the 
point,  on  a  pole  by  the  water-side,  for  a  signal,  and 
attached  a  note  to  it,  to  inform  us  that  he  had  gone  on 
to  the  lake,  and  that  if  he  did  not  find  us  there,  he  would 
be  back  in  a  couple  of  hours.  If  he  had  not  found  us 
soon,  he  had  some  thoughts  of  going  back  in  search  of 
the  solitary  hunter  whom  we  had  met  at  Telos  Lake,  ten 
miles  behind,  and,  if  successful,  hire  him  to  take  him  to 
Bangor.  But  if  this  hunter  had  moved  as  fast  as  we, 
he  would  have  been  twenty  miles  off  by  this  time,  and 
who  could  guess  in  what  direction  ?  It  would  have  been 
like  looking  for  a  needle  in  a  hay-mow,  to  search  for 
him  in  these  woods.  He  had  been  considering  how  long 
he  could  live  on  berries  alone. 

We  substituted  for  his  note  a  card  containing  our 
names  and  destination,  and  the  date  of  our  visit,  which 
Polis  neatly  enclosed  in  a  piece  of  birch-bark  to  keep  it 
dry.  This  has  probably  been  read  by  some  hunter  or 
explorer  ere  this. 

We  all  had  good  appetites  for  the  breakfast  which  we 


272  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

garded  us  more  suspiciously.  Polis  pushed  the  canoe 
steadily  forward  in  the  shallow  water,  and  I  for  a  mo- 
ment forgot  the  moose  in  attending  to  some  pretty  rose- 
colored  Polygonums  just  rising  above  the  surface,  but  the 
canoe  soon  grounded  in  the  mud  eight  or  ten  rods  dis- 
tant from  the  moose,  and  the  Indian  seized  his  gun  and 
prepared  to  fire.  After  standing  still  a  moment,  she 
turned  slowly,  as  usual,  so  as  to  expose  her  side,  and  he 
improved  this  moment  to  fire,  over  our  heads.  She 
thereupon  moved  off  eight  or  ten  rods  at  a  moderate 
pace,  across  a  shallow  bay,  to  an  old  standing-place  of 
hers,  behind  some  fallen  red  maples,  on  the  opposite 
shore,  and  there  she  stood  still  again  a  dozen  or  fourteen 
rods  from  us,  while  the  Indian  hastily  loaded  and  fired 
twice  at  her,  without  her  moving.  My  companion,  who 
passed  him  his  caps  and  bullets,  said  that  Polis  was  as 
excited  as  a  boy  of  fifteen,  that  his  hand  trembled,  and 
he  once  put  his  ramrod  back  up-side  down.  This  was 
remarkable  for  so  experienced  a  hunter.  Perhaps  he 
was  anxious  to  make  a  good  shot  before  us.  The  white 
hunter  had  told  me  that  the  Indians  were  not  good  shots, 
because  they  were  excited,  though  he  said  that  we  had 
got  a  good  hunter  with  us. 

The  Indian  now  pushed  quickly  and  quietly  back,  and 
a  long  distance  round,  in  order  to  get  into  the  outlet,  — 
for  he  had  fired  over  the  neck  of  a  peninsula  between  it 
and  the  lake,  —  till  we  approached  the  place  where  the 
moose  had  stood,  when  he  exclaimed,  "  She  is  a  goner," 
and  was  surprised  that  we  did  not  see  her  as  soon  as  he 
did.  There,  to  be  sure,  she  lay  perfectly  dead,  with  her 
tongue  hanging  out,  just  where  she  had  stood  to  receive 
the  last  shots,  looking  unexpectedly  large  and  horse-like, 
and  we  saw  where  the  bullets  had  scarred  the  trees. 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  273 

Using  a  tape,  I  found  that  the  moose  measured  just 
six  feet  from  the  shoulder  to  the  tip  of  the  hoof,  and 
was  eight  feet  long  as  she  lay.  Some  portions  of  the 
body,  for  a  foot  in  diameter,  were  almost  covered  with 
flies,  apparently  the  common  fly  of  our  woods,  with  a 
dark  spot  on  the  wing,  and  not  the  very  large  ones 
which  occasionally  pursued  us  in  mid-stream,  though  both 
are  called  moose-flies. 

Polis,  preparing  to  skin  the  moose,  asked  me  to  help 
him  find  a  stone  on  which  to  sharpen  his  large  knife.  It 
being  all  a  flat  alluvial  ground  where  the  moose  had 
fallen,  covered  with  red  maples,  &c.,  this  was  no  easy 
matter ;  we  searched  far  and  wide,  a  long  time,  till  at 
length  I  found  a  flat  kind  of  slate-stone,  and  soon  after 
he  returned  with  a  similar  one,  on  which  he  soon  made 
his  knife  very  sharp. 

While  he  was  skinning  the  moose,  I  proceeded  to 
ascertain  what  kind  of  fishes  were  to  be  found  in  the 
sluggish  and  muddy  outlet.  The  greatest  difficulty  was 
to  find  a  pole.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  find  a  slender, 
straight  pole  ten  or  twelve  feet  long  in  those  woods. 
You  might  search  half  an  hour  in  vain.  They  are 
commonly  spruce,  arbor-vitae,  fir,  &c.,  short,  stout,  and 
branchy,  and  do  not  make  good  fish-poles,  even  after  you 
have  patiently  cut  off  all  their  tough  and  scraggy 
branches.  The  fishes  were  red  perch  and  chivin. 

The  Indian  having  cut  off  a  large  piece  of  sirloin,  the 
upper  lip  and  the  tongue,  wrapped  them  in  the  hide,  and 
placed  them  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  observing  that 
there  was  "  one  man,"  meaning  the  weight  of  one.  Our 
load  had  previously  been  reduced  some'  thirty  pounds, 
but  a  hundred  pounds  were  now  added,  a  serious  addi- 
tion, which  made  our  quarters  still  more  narrow,  and 
12*  R 


274  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

considerably  increased  the  danger  on  the  lakes  and  rap- 
ids, as  well  as  the  labor  of  the  carries.  The  skin  was 
ours  according  to  custom,,  since  the  Indian  was  in  our 
employ,  but  we  did  not  think  of  claiming  it.  He  being 
a  skilful  dresser  of  moose-hides,  would  make  it  worth 
seven  or  eight  dollars  to  him,  as  I  was  told.  He  said 
that  he  sometimes  earned  fifty -or  sixty  dollars  in  a  day  at 
them  ;  lie  had  killed  ten  moose  in  one  day,  though  the 
skinning  and  all  took  two  days.  This  was  the  way  he 
had  got  his  property.  There  were  the  tracks  of  a  calf 
thereabouts,  which  he  said  would  come  "  by,  by,"  and  he 
could  get  it  if  we  cared  to  wait,  but  I  cast  cold  water  on 
the  project. 

We  continued  along  the  outlet  toward  Grand  Lake, 
through  a  swampy  region,  by  a  long,  winding,  and  nar- 
row dead  water,  very  much  choked  up  by  wood,  where 
we  were  obliged  to  land  sometimes  in  order  to  get  the 
canoe  over  a  log.  It  was  hard  to  find  any  channel,  and 
we  did  not  know  but  we  should  be  lost  in  the  swamp.  It 
abounded  in  ducks,  as  usual.  At  length  we  reached 
Grand  Lake,  which  the  Indian  called  Matungamook. 

At  the  head  of  this  we  saw,  coming  in  from  the  south- 
west, with  a  sweep  apparently  from  a  gorge  in  the  moun- 
tains, Trout  Stream,  or  Uncardnerheese,  which  name,  the 
Indian  said,  had  something  to  do  with  mountains. 

We  stopped  to  dine  on  an  interesting  high  rocky 
island,  soon  after  entering  Matungamook  Lake,  securing 
our  canoe  to  the  cliffy  shore.  It  is  always  pleasant  to 
step  from  a  boat  on  to  a  large  rock  or  cliff'.  Here  was 
a  good  opportunity  to  dry  our  dewy  blankets  on  the  open 
sunny  rock.  Indians  had  recently  camped  here,  and  ac- 
cidentally burned  over  the  western  end  of  the  island,  and 
Polis  picked  up  a  gun-case  of  blue  broadcloth,  and  said 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  275 

that  he  knew  the  Indian  it  belonged  to,  and  would  carry 
it  to  him.  His  tribe  is  not  so  large  but  he  may  know 
all  its  effects.  We  proceeded  to  make  a  fire  and  cook 
our  dinner  amid  some  pines,  where  our  predecessors  had 
done  the  same,  while  the  Indian  busied  himself  about 
his  moose-hide  on  the  shore,  for  he  said  that  he  thought 
it  a  good  plan  for  one  to  do  all  the  cooking,  i.  e.  I  sup- 
pose if  that  one  were  not  himself.  A  peculiar  ever- 
green overhung  our  fire,  which  at  first  glance  looked  like 
a  pitch  pine  (P.  rigida),  with  leaves  little  more  than  an 
inch  long,  spruce-like,  but  we  found  it  to  be  the  Pinus 
Banksiana, — "  Banks's,  or  the  Labrador  Pine,"  also  called 
Scrub  Pine,  Gray  Pine,  &c.,  a  new  tree  to  us.  These 
must  have  been  good  specimens ,  for  several  were  thirty 
or  thirty-five  feet  high.  Richardson  found  it  forty  feet 
high  and  upward,  and  states  that  the  porcupine  feeds  on 
its  bark.  Here  also  grew  the  Red  Pine  (Pinus  resinosa). 
I  saw  where  the  Indians  had  made  canoes  in  a  little 
secluded  hollow  in  the  woods,  on  the  top  of  the  rock, 
where  they  were  out  of  the  wind,  and  large  piles  of 
whittlings  remained.  This  must  have  been  a  favorite  re- 
sort for  their  ancestors,  and,  indeed,  we  found  here  the 
point  of  an  arrow-head,  such  as  they  have  not  used  for 
two  centuries  and  now  know  not  how  to  make.  .  The 
Indian,  picking  up  a  stone,  remarked  to  me,  "  That  very 
strange  lock  (rock)."  It  was  a  piece  of  hornstone,  which 
I  told  him  his  tribe  had  probably  brought  here  centuries 
before  to  make  arrow-heads  of.  He  also  picked  up  a 
yellowish  curved  bone  by  the  side  of  our  fireplace  and 
asked  me  to*  guess  what  it  was.  It  was  one  of  the  upper 
incisors  of  a  beaver,  on  which  some  party  had  feasted 
within  a  year  or  two.  I  found  also  most  of  the  teeth, 
and  the  skull,  &c.  We  here  dined  on  fried  moose-meat. 


276  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

One  who  was  my  companion  in  my  two  previous  ex- 
cursions to  these  woods,  tells  me  that  when  hunting  up 
the  Caucomgomoe,  about  two  years  ago,  he  found  him- 
self dining  one  day  on  moose-meat,  mud-turtle,  trout,  and 
beaver,  and  he  thought  that  there  were  few  places  in  the 
world  where  these  dishes  could  easily  be  brought  together 
on  one  table. 

After  the  almost  incessant  rapids  and  falls  of  the  Ma- 
dunkchunk  ( Heigh t-of-Land,  or  Webster  Stream),  we 
had  just  passed  through  the  dead-water  of  Second  Lake, 
and  were  now  in  the  much  larger  dead-water  of  Grand 
Lake,  and  I  thought  the  Indian  was  entitled  to  take  an 
extra  nap  here.  Ktaadn,  near  which  we  were  to  pass 
the  next  day,  is  said  to  mean  "  Highest  Land."  So  much 
geography  is  there  in  their  names.  The  Indian  naviga- 
tor naturally  distinguishes  by  a  name  those  parts  'of  a 
stream  where  he  has  encountered  quick  water  and  forks, 
and  again,  the  lakes  and  smooth  water  where  he  can  rest 
his  weary  arms,  since  those  are  the  most  interesting  and 
more  arable  parts  to  him.  The  very  sight  of  the  Ner- 
lumskeechticook,  or  Dead- Water  Mountains,  a  day's  jour- 
ney off  over  the  forest,  as  we  first  saw  them,  must  awaken 
in  him  pleasing  memories.  And  not  less  interesting  is  it 
to  the  white  traveller,  when  he  is  crossing  a  placid  lake 
in  these  out-of-the-way  woods,  perhaps  thinking  that  he 
is  in  some  sense  one  of  the  earlier  discoverers  of  it,  to  be 
reminded  that  it  was  thus  well  known  and  suitably 
named  by  Indian  hunters  perhaps  a  thousand  years 
ago. 

Ascending  the  precipitous  rock  which  formed  this  long 
narrow  island,  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  its  summit  was 
a  narrow  ridge,  with  a  precipice  on  one  side,  and  that  its 
axis  of  elevation  extended  from  northwest  to  southeast, 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  277 

exactly  like  that  of  the  great  rocky  ridge  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Burnt  Ground,  ten  miles  northwesterly. 
The  same  arrangement  prevailed  here,  and  we  could 
plainly  see  that  the  mountain  ridges  on  the  west  of  the 
lake  trended  the  same  way.  Splendid  large  harebells 
nodded  over  the  edge  and  in  the  clefts  of  the  cliff,  and 
the  blueberries  ( Vaccinium  Oanadense)  were  for  the 
first  time  really  abundant  in  the  thin  soil  on  its  top. 
There  was  no  lack  of  them  henceforward  on  the  East 
Branch.  There  was  a  fine  view  hence  over  the  spark- 
ling lake,  which  looked  pure  and  deep,  and  had  two  or 
three,  in  all,  rocky  islands  in  it.  Our  blankets  being  dry, 
we  set  out  again,  the  Indian  as  usual  having  left  his 
gazette  on  a  tree.  This  time  it  was  we  three  in  a  canoe, 
my  companion  smoking.  "We  paddled  southward  down 
this  handsome  lake,  which  appeared  to  extend  nearly  as 
far  east  as  south,  keeping  near  the  western  shore,  just 
outside  a  small  island,  under  the  dark  Nerlumskeechti- 
cook  mountain.  For  I  had  observed  on  my  map  that 
this  was  the  course.  It  was  three  or  four  miles  across  it. 
It  struck  me  that  the  outline  of  this  mountain  on  the 
southwest  of  the  lake,  and  of  another  beyond  it,  was  not 
only  like  that  of  the  huge  rock  waves  of  Webster  Stream, 
but  in  the  main  like  Kineo,  on  Moosehead  Lake,  having 
a  similar  but  less  abrupt  precipice  at  the  southeast  end ; 
in  short,  that  all  the  prominent  hills  and  ridges  here- 
abouts were  larger  or  smaller  Kineos,  and  that  possibly 
there  was  such  a  relation  between  Kineo  and  the  rocks  of 
Webster  Stream. 

The  Indian  did  not  know  exactly  where  the  outlet 
was,  whether  at  the  extreme  southwest  angle  or  more 
easterly,  and  had  asked  to  see  my  plan  at  the  last  stop- 
ping-place, but  I  had  forgotten  to  show  it  to  him.  As 


278  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

usual,  he  went  feeling  his  way  by  a  middle  course  be- 
tween two  probable  points,  from  which  he  could  diverge 
either  way  at  last  without  losing  much  distance.  In  ap- 
proaching the  south  shore,  as  the  clouds  looked  gusty, 
and  the  waves  ran  pretty  high,  we  so  steered  as  to  get 
partly  under  the  lee  of  an  island,  though  at  a  great  dis- 
tance from  it. 

I  could  not  distinguish  the  outlet  till  we  were  almost 
in  it,  and  heard  the  water  falling  over  the  dam  there. 

Here  was  a  considerable  fall,  and  a  very  substantial 
dam,  but  no  sign  of  a  cabin  or  camp.  The  hunter  whom 
we  met  at  Telos  Lake  had  told  us  that  there  were  plenty 
of  trout  here,  but  at  this  hour  they  did  not  rise  to  the 
bait,  only  cousin  trout,  from  the  very  midst  of  the  rush- 
ing waters.  There  are  not  so  many  fishes  in  these  rivers 
as  in  the  Concord. 

While  we  loitered  here,  Polis  took  occasion  to  cut  with 
his  big  knife  some  of  the  hair  from  his  moose-hide,  and 
so  lightened  and  prepared  it  for  drying.  I  noticed  at 
several  old  Indian  camps  in  the  woods  the  pile  of  hair 
which  they  had  cut  from  their  hides. 

Having  carried  over  the  dam,  he  darted  down  the  rap- 
ids, leaving  us  to  walk  for  a  mile  or  more,  where  for  the 
most  part  there  was  no  path,  but  very  thick  and  difficult 
travelling  near  the  stream.  At  length  he  would  call  to 
let  us  know  where  he  was  waiting  for  us  with  his  canoe, 
when,  on  account  of  the  windings  of  the  stream,  we  did 
not  know  where  the  shore  was,  but  he  did  not  call  often 
enough,  forgetting  that  we  were  not  Indians.  He  seemed 
to  be  very  saving  of  his  breath,  —  yet  he  would  be  sur- 
prised if  we  went  by,  or  did  not  strike  the  right  spot. 
This  was  not  because  he  was  unaccommodating,  but  a 
proof  of  superior  manners.  Indians  like  to  get  along 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  279 

with  the  least  possible  communication  and  ado.  He 
was  really  paying  us  a  great  compliment  all  the  while, 
thinking  that  we  preferred  a  hint  to  a  kick. 

At  length,  climbing  over  the  willows  and  fallen  trees, 
when  this  was  easier  than  to  go  round  or  under  them,  we 
overtook  the  canoe,  and  glided  down  the  stream  in  smooth 
but  swift  water  for  several  miles.  I  here  observed  again, 
as  at  Webster  Stream,  and  on  a.  still  larger  scale  the  next 
day,  that  the  river  was  a  smooth  and  regularly  inclined 
plane  down  which  we  coasted.  As  we  thus  glided  along 
we  started  the  first  black  ducks  which  we  had  distin- 
guished. 

We  decided  to  camp  early  to-night,  that  we  might  have 
ample  time  before  dark ;  so  we  stopped  at  the  first  favor- 
able shore,  where  there  was  a  narrow  gravelly  beach  on 
the  western  side,  some  five  miles  below  the  outlet  of  the 
lake.  It  was  an  interesting  spot,  where  the  river  began 
to  make  a  great  bend  to  the  east,  and  the  last  of  the  pecu- 
liar moose-faced  Nerlwnskeechticook  mountains  not  far 
southwest  of  Grand  Lake  rose  dark  in  the  northwest  a 
short  distance  behind,  displaying  its  gray  precipitous 
southeast  side,  but  we  could  not  see  this  without  coming 
out  upon  the  shore. 

Two  steps  from  the  water  on  either  side,  and  you 
come  to  the  abrupt  bushy  and  rooty  if  not  turfy  edge 
of  the  bank,  four  or  five  feet  high,  where  the  intermina- 
ble forest  begins,  as  if  the  stream  had  but  just  cut  its 
way  through  it. 

It  is  surprising  on  stepping  ashore  anywhere  into  this 
unbroken  wilderness  to  see  so  often,  at  least  within  a 
few  rods  of  the  -river,  the  marks  of  the  axe,  made  by 
lumberers  who  have  either  camped  here,  or  driven  logs 
past  in  previous  springs.  You  will  see  perchance  where, 


280  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

going  on  the  same  errand  that  you  do,  they  have  cut 
large  chips  from  a  tall  white-pine  stump  for  their  fire. 
While  we  were  pitching  the  camp  and  getting  supper, 
the  Indian  cut  the  rest  of  the  hair  from  his  moose-hide, 
and  proceeded  to  extend  it  vertically  on  a  temporary 
frame  between  two  small  trees,  half  a  dozen  feet  from  the 
opposite  side  of  the  fire,  lashing  and  stretching  it  with 
arbor-vitae  bark,  which  was  always  at  hand,  and  in  this 
case  was  stripped  from  one  of  the  trees  it  was  tied  to. 
Asking  for  a  new  kind  of  tea,  he  made  us  some,  pretty 
good,  of  the  checkerberry  (Gaultheria  procumbens), 
which  covered  the  ground,  dropping  a  little  bunch  of  it 
tied  up  with  cedar  bark  into  the  kettle  ;  but  it  was  not 
quite  equal  to  the  Chiogenes.  We  called  this  therefore 
Checkerberry-tea  Camp. 

I  was  struck  with  the  abundance  of  the  Linncea  bore- 
alis,  checkerberry,  and  Chiogenes  hispidula,  almost  every- 
where in  the  Maine  woods.  The  wintergreen  (Chima- 
phila  umbellata)  was  still  in  bloom  here,  and  Clintonia 
berries  were  abundant  and  ripe.  This  handsome  plant 
is  one  of  the  most  common  in  that  forest.  We  here  first 
noticed  the  moose-wood  in  fruit  on  the  banks.  The  pre- 
vailing trees  were  spruce  (commonly  black),  arbor-vitae, 
canoe-birch,  (black  ash  and  elms  beginning  to  appear.) 
yellow  birch,  red  maple,  and  a  little  hemlock  skulking  in 
the  forest.  The  Indian  said  that  the  white-maple  punk 
was  the  best  for  tinder,  that  yellow-birch  punk  was  pretty 
good,  but  hard.  After  supper  he  put  on  the  moose  tongue 
and  lips  to  boil,  cutting  out  the  septum.  He  showed  me 
how  to  write  on  the  under  side  of  birch  bark,  with  a 
black  spruce  twig,  which  is  hard  and  tough  and  can  be 
brought  to  a  point. 

The  Indian  wandered  off  into  the  woods  a  short  dis- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     281 

tance  just  before  night,  and,  coming  back,  said,  "Me  found 
great  treasure  —  fifty,  sixty  dollars  worth."  "  What  's 
that  ? "  we  asked.  "  Steel  traps,  under  a  log,  thirty  or 
forty,  I  did  n't  count  'em.  I  guess  Indian  work  —  worth 
three  dollars  apiece."  It  was  a  singular  coincidence  that 
he  should  have  chanced  to  walk  to  and  look  under  that 
particular  log,  in  that  trackless  forest. 

I  saw  chivin  and  chub  in  the  stream  when  washing 
my  hands,  but  my  companion  tried  in  vain  to  catch  them. 
I  also  heard  the  sound  of  bull-frogs  from  a  swamp  on  the 
opposite  side,  thinking  at  first  that  they  were  moose  ;  a 
duck  paddled  swiftly  by ;  and  sitting  in  that  dusky  wilder- 
ness, under  that  dark  mountain,  by  the  bright  river  which 
was  full  of  reflected  light,  still  I  heard  the  wood-thrush 
sing,  as  if  no  higher  civilization  could  be  attained.  By 
this  time  the  night  was  upon  us. 

You  commonly  make  your  camp  just  at  sundown,  and 
are  collecting  wood,  getting  your  supper,  or  pitching  your 
tent  while  the  shades  of  night  are  gathering  around  and 
adding  to  the  already  dense  gloom  of  the  forest.  You 
have  no  time  to  explore  or  look  around  you  before  it  is 
dark.  You  may  penetrate  half  a  dozen  rods  farther  into 
that  twilight  wilderness,  after  some  dry  bark  to  kindle 
your  fire  with,  and  wonder  what  mysteries  lie  hidden  still 
deeper  in  it,  say  at  the  end  of  a  long  day's  walk;  or 
you  may  run  down  to  the  shore  for  a  dipper  of  water,  and 
get  a  clearer  view  for  a  short  distance  up  or  down  the 
stream,  and  while  you  stand  there,  see  a  fish  leap,  or  duck 
alight  in  the  river,  or  hear  a  wood-thrush  or  robin  sing 
in  the  woods.  That  is  as  if  you  had  been  to  town  or 
civilized  parts.  But  there  is  no  sauntering  off  to  see 
the  country,  and  ten  or  fifteen  rods  seems  a  great  way 
from  your  companions,  and  you  come  back  with  the  air 


282  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

of  a  much  travelled  man,  as  from  a  long  journey,  with 
adventures  to  relate,  though  you  may  have  heard  the 
crackling  of  the  fire  all  the  while,  —  and  at  a  hundred 
rods  you  might  be  lost  past  recovery,  and  have  to  camp 
out.  It  is  all  mossy  and  moosey.  In  some  of  those  dense 
fir  and  spruce  woods  there  is  hardly  room  for  the  smoke 
to  go  up.  The  trees  are  a  standing  night,  and  every  fir 
and  spruce  which  you  fell  is  a  plume  plucked  from  night's 
raven  wing.  Then  at  night  the  general  stillness  is  more 
impressive  than  any  sound,  but  occasionally  you  hear 
the  note  of  an  owl  farther  or  nearer  in  the  woods,  and 
if  near  a  lake,  the  semi-human  cry  of  the  loons  at  their 
unearthly  revels. 

To-night  the  Indian  lay  between  the  fire  and  his 
stretched  moose-hide,  to  avoid  the  mosquitoes.  Indeed, 
he  also  made  a  small  smoky  fire  of  damp  leaves  at  his 
head  and  his  feet,  and  then  as  usual  rolled  up  his  head 
in  his  blanket.  We  with  our  veils  and  our  wash  were 
tolerably  comfortable,  but  it  would  be  difficult  to  pursue 
any  sedentary  occupation  in  the  woods  at  this  season: 
you  cannot  see  to  read  much  by  the  light  of  a  fire  through 
a  veil  in  the  evening,  nor  handle  pencil  and  paper  well 
with  gloves  or  anointed  fingers. 

On  the  mainland  were  Norway  pines,  indicating  a 
new  geological  formation,  and  it  was  such  a  dry  and 
sandy  soil  as  we  had  not  noticed  before. 

As  we  approached  the  mouth  of  the  East  Branch,  we 
passed  two  or  three  huts,  the  first  sign  of  civilization 
after  Hunt's,  though  we  saw  no  road  as  yet ;  we  heard  a 
cow-bell,  and  even  saw  an  infant  held  up  to  a  small 
square  window  to  see  us  pass,  but  apparently  the  infant 
and  the  mother  that  held  it  were  the  only  inhabitants 
then  at  home  for  several  miles.  This  took  the  wind  out 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  283 

of  our  sails,  reminding  us  that  we  were  travellers  surely, 
while  it  was  a  native  of  the  soil,  and  had  the  advantage 
of  us.  Conversation  flagged.  I  would  only  hear  the 
Indian,  perhaps,  ask  my  companion,  "  You  load  my 
pipe  ?  "  He  said  that  he  smoked  alder  bark,  for  medi- 
cine. On  entering  the  West  Branch  at  Nickertow  it 
appeared  much  larger  than  the  East.  Polis  remarked 
that  the  former  was  all  gone  and  lost  now,  that  it  was 
all  smooth  water  hence  to  Oldtown,  and  he  threw  away 
his  pole  which  was  cut  on  the  Umbazookskus.  Thinking 
of  the  rapids,  he  said  once  or  twice,  that  you  would  n't 
catch  him  to  go  East  Branch  again ;  but  he  did  not  by 
any  means  mean  all  that  he  said. 

Things  are  quite  changed  since  I  was  here  eleven 
years  ago.  Where  there  were  but  one  or  two  houses,  I 
now  found  quite  a  village,  with  saw-mills  and  a  store 
(the  latter  was  locked,  but  its  contents  were  so  much  the 
more  safely  stored),  and  there  was  a  stage-road  to  Mat- 
tawamkeag,  and  the  rumor  of  a  stage.  Indeed,  a  steamer 
had  ascended  thus  far  once,  when  the  water  was  very 
high.  But  we  were  not  able  to  get  any  sugar,  only  a 
better  shingle  to  lean  our  backs  against. 

We  camped  about  two  miles  below  Nickertow,  on  the 
south  side  of  the  West  Branch,  covering  with  fresh  twigs 
the  withered  bed  of  a  former  traveller,  and  feeling  that 
we  were  now  in  a  settled  country,  especially  when  in  the 
evening  we  heard  an  ox  sneeze  in  its  wild  pasture, 
across  the  river.  Wherever  you  land  along  the  fre- 
quented part  of  the  river,  you  have  not  far  to  go  to  find 
these  sites  of  temporary  inns,  the  withered  bed  of  flat- 
tened twigs,  the  charred  sticks,  and  perhaps  the  tent- 
poles.  And  not  long  since,  similar  beds  were  spread 
along  the  Connecticut,  the  Hudson,  and  the  Delaware, 


284  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

and  longer  still  ago,  by  the  Thames  and  Seine,  and  they 
now  help  to  make  the  soil  where  private  and  public  gar- 
dens, mansions  and  palaces  are.  We  could  not  get  fir 
twigs  for  our  bed  here,  and  the  spruce  was  harsh  in  com- 
parison, having  more  twig  in  proportion  to  its  leaf,  but 
we  improved  it  somewhat  with  hemlock.  The  Indian 
remarked  as  before,  "  Must  have  hard  wood  to  cook 
moose-meat,"  as  if  that  were  a  maxim,  and  proceeded  to 
get  it.  My  companion  cooked  some  in  California  fashion, 
winding  a  long  string  of  the  meat  round  a  stick  and 
slowly  turning  it  in  his  hand  before  the  fire.  It  was  very 
good.  But  the  Indian  not  approving  of  the  mode,  or 
because  he  was  not  allowed  to  cook  it  his  own  way,  would 
not  taste  it.  After  the  regular  supper  we  attempted  to 
make  a  lily  soup  of  the  bulbs  which  I  had  brought  along, 
for  I  wished  to  learn  all  I  could  before  I  got  out  of  the 
woods.  Following  the  Indian's  directions,  for  he  began 
to  be  sick,  I  washed  the  bulbs  carefully,  minced  some 
moose-meat  and  some  pork,  salted  and  boiled  all  together, 
but  we  had  not  patience  to  try  the  experiment  fairly,  for 
he  said  it  must  be  boiled  till  the  roots  were  completely 
softened  so  as  to  thicken  the  soup  like  flour ;  but  though 
we  left  it  on  all  night,  we  found  it  dried  to  the  kettle  in 
the  morning,  and  not  yet  boiled  to  a  flour.  Perhaps  the 
roots  were  not  ripe  enough,  for  they  commonly  gather 
them  in  the  fall.  As  it  was,  it  was  palatable  enough, 
.but  it  reminded  me  of  the  Irishman's  limestone  broth. 
The  other  ingredients  were  enough  alone.  The  Indian's 
name  for  these  bulbs  was  Sheepnoc.  I  stirred  the  soup 
by  accident  with  a  striped  maple  or  moose-wood  stick, 
which  I  had  peeled,  and  he  remarked  that  its  bark  was 
an  emetic. 

He  prepared  to  camp  as  usual  between  his  moose-hide 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     285 

and  the  fire,  but  it  beginning  to  rain  suddenly,  he  took 
refuge  under  the  tent  with  us,  and  gave  us  a  song  before 
falling  asleep. 

FRIDAY,  July  31. 

The  Indian  said,  "  You  and  I  kill  moose  last  night, 
therefore  use  'em  best  wood.  Always  use  hard  wood 
to  cook  moose-meat."  His  "best  wood"  was  rock- 
maple.  He  cast  the  moose's  lip  into  the  fire,  to  burn 
the  hair  off,  and  then  rolled  it  up  with  the  meat  to  carry 
along.  Observing  that  we  were  sitting  down  to  break- 
fast without  any  pork,  he  said,  with  a  very  grave  look, 
"  Me  want  some  fat,"  so  he  was  told  that  he  might  have 
as  much  as  he  would  fry. 

We  had  smooth  but  swift  water  for  a  considerable  dis- 
tance, where  we  glided  rapidly  along,  scaring  up  ducks 
and  kingfishers.  But  as  usual,  our  smooth  progress  ere- 
long came  to  an  end,  and  we  were  obliged  to  carry  canoe 
and  all  about  half  a  mile  down  the  right  bank,  around 
some  rapids  or  falls.  It  required  sharp  eyes  sometimes 
to  tell  which  side  was  the  carry,  before  you  went  over 
the  falls,  but  Polis  never  failed  to  land  us  rightly.  The 
raspberries  were  particularly  abundant  and  large  here, 
and  all  hands  went  to  eating  them,  the  Indian  remarking 
on  their  size. 

Often  on  bare  rocky  carries  the  trail  was  so  indistinct 
that  I  repeatedly  lost  it,  but  when  I  walked  behind  him 
I  observed  that  he  could  keep  it  almost  like  a  hound,  and 
rarely  hesitated,  or,  if  he  paused  a  moment  on  a  bare 
rock,  his  eye  immediately  detected  some  sign  which 
would  have  escaped  me.  Frequently  we  found  no  path 
at  all  at  these  places,  and  were  to  him  unaccountably 
delayed.  He  would  only  say  it  was  "  ver  strange." 

We  had  heard  of  a  Grand  Fall  on  this  stream,  and 


286  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

thought  tnat  each  fall  we  came  to  must  be  it,  but  after 
christening  several  in  succession  with  this  name,  we  gave 
up  the  search.  There  were  more  Grand  or  Petty  Falls 
than  I  can  remember. 

I  cannot  tell  how  many  times  we  had  to  walk  on  ac- 
count of  falls  or  rapids.  We  were  expecting  all  the 
while  that  the  river  would  take  a  final  leap  and  get  to 
smooth  water,  but  there  was  no  improvement  this  fore- 
noon. However,  the  carries  were  an  agreeable  variety. 
So  surely  as  we  stepped  out  of  the  canoe  and  stretched 
our  legs  we  found  ourselves  in  a  blueberry  and  raspberry 
garden,  each  side  of  our  rocky  trail  around  the  falls  being 
lined  with  one  or  both.  There  was  not  a  carry  on  the 
main  East  Branch  where  we  did  not  find  an  abundance 
of  both  these  berries,  for  these  were  the  rockiest  places, 
and  partially  cleared,  such  as  these  plants  prefer,  and 
there  had  been  none  to  gather  the  finest  before  us. 

In  our  three  journeys  over  the  carries,  for  we  were 
obliged  to  go  over  the  ground  three  times  whenever  the 
canoe  was  taken  out,  we  did  full  justice  to  the  berries,  and 
they  were  just  what  we  wanted  to  correct  the  effect  of 
our  hard  bread  and  pork  diet.  Another  name  for  making 
a  portage  would  have  been  going  a  berrying.  We  also 
found  a  few  Amelanchier,  or  service  berries,  though  most 
were  abortive,  but  they  held  on  rather  more  generally 
than  they  do  in  Concord.  The  Indian  called  them 
Pemoymenuk,  and  said  that  they  bore  much  fruit  in  some 
places.  He  sometimes  also  ate  the  northern  wild  red 
cherries,  saying  that  they  were  good  medicine,  but  they 
were  scarcely  edible. 

We  bathed  and  dined  at  the  foot  of  one  of  these  car- 
ries. It  was  the  Indian  \\dio  commonly  reminded  us  that 
it  was  dinner-time,  sometimes  even  by  turning  the  prow 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  287 

to  the  shore.  He  once  made  an  indirect,-  but  lengthy 
apology,  by  saying  that  we  might  think  it  strange,  but 
that  one  who  worked  hard  all  day  was  very  particular  to 
have  his  dinner  in  good  season.  At  the  most  considera- 
ble fall  on  this  stream,  when  I  was  walking  over  the 
carry,  close  behind  the  Indian,  he  observed  a  track  on 
the  rock,  which  was  but  slightly  covered  with  soil,  and, 
stooping,  muttered  "  caribou."  When  we  returned,  he 
observed  a  much  larger  track  near  the  same  place,  where 
some  animal's  foot  had  sunk  into  a  small  hollow  in  the 
rock,  partly  filled  with  grass  and  earth,  and  he  exclaimed 
with  surprise,  "What  that?"  "Well,  what  is  it?"  I 
asked.  Stooping  and  laying  his  hand  in  it,  he  answered 
with  a  mysterious  air,  and  in  a  half  whisper,  "  Devil 
[that  is,  Indian  Devil,  or  cougar]  lodges  about  here 
—  very  bad  animal  —  pull  'em  locks  all  to  pieces." 
"  How  long  since  it  was  made  ?  "  I  asked.  "  To-day  or 
yesterday,"  said  he.  But  when  I  asked  him  afterward 
if  he  was  sure  it  was  the  devil's  track,  he  said  he  did  not 
know.  I  had  been  told  that  the  scream  of  a  cougar  was 
heard  about  Ktaadn  recently,  and  we  were  not  far  from 
that  mountain. 

We  spent  at  least  half  the  time  in  walking  to-day,  and 
the  walking  was  as  bad  as  usual,  for  the  Indian  being 
alone,  commonly  ran  down  far  below  the  foot  of  the  car- 
ries before  he  waited  for  us.  The  carry-paths  themselves 
were  more  than  usually  indistinct,  often  the  route  being 
revealed  only  by  the  countless  small  holes  in  the  fallen 
timber  made  by  the  tacks  in  the  drivers'  boots,  or  where 
there  was  a  slight  trail  we  did  not  find  it.  It  was  a  tan- 
gled and  perplexing  thicket,  through  which  we  stumbled 
and  threaded  our  way,  and  w,hen  we  had  finished  a  mile 
of  it,  our  starting-point  seemed  far  away.  We  were  glad 


288  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

that  we  had  not  got  to  walk  to  Bangor  along  the  banks 
of  this  river,  which  would  be  a  journey  of  more  than  a 
hundred  miles.  Think  of  the  denseness  of  the  forest, 
the  fallen  trees  and  rocks,  the  windings  of  the  river,  the 
streams  emptying  in  and  the  frequent  swamps  to  be 
crossed.  It  made  you  shudder.  Yet  the  Indian  from 
time  to  time  pointed  out  to  us  where  he  had  thus  crept 
along  day  after  day  when  he  was  a  boy  of  ten,  and  in  a 
starving  condition.  He  had  been  hunting  far  north  of 
this  with  two  grown  Indians.  The  winter  came  on  un- 
expectedly early,  and  the  ice  compelled  them  to  leave 
their  canoe  at  Grand  Lake,  and  walk  down  the  bank. 
They  shouldered  their  furs  and  started  for  Oldtown. 
The  snow  was  not  deep  enough  for  snow-shoes,  or  to 
cover  the  inequalities  of  the  ground.  Polis  was  soon 
too  weak  to  carry  any  burden ;  but  he  managed  to  catch 
one  otter.  This  was  the  most  they  all  had  to  eat  on  this 
journey,  and  he  remembered  how  good  the  yellow-lily 
roots  were,  made  into  a  soup  with  the  otter  oil.  He 
shared  this  food  equally  with  the  other  two,  but  being 
so  small  he  suffered  much  more  than  they.  He  waded 
through  the  Mattawamkeag  at  its  mouth,  when  it  was 
freezing  cold  and  came  up  to  his  chin,  and  he,  being 
very  weak  and  emaciated,  expected  to  be  swept  away. 
The  first  house  which  they  reached  was  at  Lincoln,  and 
thereabouts  they  met  a  white  teamster  with  supplies,  who 
seeing  their  condition  gave  them  as  much  of  his  load 
as  they  could  eat.  For  six  months  after  getting  home 
he  was  very  low,  and  did  not  expect  to  live,  and  was 
perhaps  always  the  worse  for  it. 

We  could  not  find  much  more  than  half  of  this  day's 
journey  on  our  maps  (the  "  Map  of  the  Public  Lands  of 
Maine  and  Massachusetts,"  and  "  Colton's  Railroad  and 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     289 

Township  Map  of  Maine,"  which  copies  the  former).  By 
the  maps  there  was  not  more  than  fifteen  miles  between 
camps,  at  the  outside,  and  yet  we  had  been  busily  pro- 
gressing all  day,  and  much  of  the  time  very  rapidly.  . 

For  seven  or  eight  miles  below  that  succession  of 
"  Grand  "  falls,  the  aspect  of  the  banks  as  well  as  the 
character  of  the  stream  was  changed.  After  passing  a 
tributary  from  the  northeast,  perhaps  Bowlin  Stream, 
we  had  good  swift  smooth  water,  with  a  regular  slope, 
such  as  I  have  described.  Low,  grassy  banks  and 
muddy  shores  began.  Many  elms,  as  well  as  maples, 
and  more  ash  trees  overhung  the  stream,  and  supplanted 
the  spruce. 

My  lily-roots  having  been  lost  when  the  canoe  was  ta- 
ken out  at  a  carry,  I  landed  late  in  the  afternoon,  at  a 
low  and  grassy  place  amid  maples,  to  gather  more.  It 
was  slow  work  grubbing  them  up  amid  the  sand,  and  the 
mosquitoes  were  all  the  while  feasting  on  me.  Mosqui- 
toes, black  flies,  &c.,  pursued  us  in  mid-channel,  and  we 
were  glad  sometimes  to  get  into  violent  rapids,  for  then 
we  escaped  them. 

A  red-headed  woodpecker  flew  across  the  river,  and 
the  Indian  remarked  that  it  was  good  to  eat.  As  we 
glided  swiftly  down  the  inclined  plane  of  the  river,  a 
great  cat-owl  launched  itself  away  from  a  stump  on  the 
bank,  and  flew  heavily  across  the  stream,  and  the  Indian, 
as  usual,  imitated  its  note.  Soon  the  same  bird  flew  back 
in  front  of  us,  and  we  afterwards  passed  it  perched  on  a 
tree.  Soon  afterward  a  white-headed  eagle  sailed  down 
the  stream  before  us.  We  drove  him  several  miles, 
while  we  were  looking  for  a  good  place  to  camp,  for  we 
expected  to  be  overtaken  by  a  shower,  —  and  still  we 
could  distinguish  him  by  his  white  tail,  sailing  away 

13  8 


290  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

from  time  to  time  from  some  tree  by  the  shore  still 
farther  down  the  stream.  Some  shecorways,  being  sur- 
prised by  us,  a  part  of  them  dived,  and  we  passed  directly 
over  them,  and  could  trace  their  course  here  and  there 
by  a  bubble  on  the  surface,  but  we  did  not  see  them  come 
up.  Polis  detected  once  or  twice  what  he  called  a 
"  tow "  road,  an  indistinct  path  leading  into  the  forest. 
In  the  mean  while  we  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Seboois 
on  our  left.  This  did  not  look  so  large  as  our  stream, 
which  was  indeed  the  main  one.  It  was  some  time  be- 
fore we  found  a  camping-place,  for  the  shore  was  either 
too  grassy  and  muddy,  where  mosquitoes  abounded,  or 
too  steep  a  hillside.  The  Indian  said  that  there  were  but 
few  mosquitoes  on  a  steep  hillside.  We  examined  a  good 
place,  where  somebody  had  camped  a  long  time ;  but  it 
seemed  pitiful  to  occupy  an  old  site,  where  there  was  so 
much  room  to  choose,  so  we  continued  on.  We  at  length 
found  a  place  to  our  minds,  on  the  west  bank,  about  a  mile 
below  the  mouth  of  the  Seboois,  where,  in  a  very  dense 
spruce  wood  above  a  gravelly  shore,  there  seemed  to  be 
but  few  insects.  The  trees  were  so  thick  that  we  were 
obliged  to  clear  a  space  to  build  our  fire  and  lie  down  in, 
and  the  young  spruce  trees  that  were  left  were  like  the 
wall  of  an  apartment  rising  around  us.  We  were 
obliged  to  pull  ourselves  up  a  steep  bank  to  get  there. 
But  the  place  which  you  have  selected  for  your  camp, 
though  never  so  rough  and  grim,  begins  at  once  to  have 
its  attractions,  and  becomes  a  very  centre  of  civilization 
to  you  :  "  Home  is  home,  be  it  never  so  homely." 

It  turned  out  that  the  mosquitoes  were  more  numerous 
here  than  we  had  found  them  before,  and  the  Indian  com- 
plained a  good  deal,  though  he  lay,  as  the  night  before, 
between  three  fires  and  his  stretched  hide.  As  I  sat  on 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.    "         291 

a  stump  by  the  fire,  with  a  veil  and  gloves  on  trying  to 
read,  he  observed,  "  I  make  you  candle,"  and  in  a  minute 
he  took  a  piece  of  birch  bark  about  two  inches  wide 
and  rolled  it  hard,  like  an  allumette  fifteen  inches  long, 
lit  it,  and  fixed  it  by  the  other  end  horizontally  in  a  split 
stick  three  feet  high,  stuck  it  in  the  ground,  turning  the 
blazing  end  to  the  wind,  and  telling  me  to  snuff*  it  from 
time  to  time.  It  answered  the  purpose  of  a  candle  pretty 
well. 

I  noticed,  as  I  had  done  before,  that  there  was  a  lull 
among  the  mosquitoes  about  midnight,  and  that  they 
began  again  in  the  morning.  Nature  is  thus  merciful. 
But  apparently  they  need  rest  as  well  as  we.  Few  if 
any  creatures  are  equally  active  all  night.  As  soon  as  it 
was  light  I  saw,  through  my  veil,  that  the  inside  of  the 
tent  about  our  heads  was  quite  blackened  with  myriads, 
each  one  of  their  wings  when  flying,  as  has  been  calcu- 
lated, vibrating  some  three  thousand  times  in  a  minute, 
and  their  combined  hum  was  almost  as  bad  to  endure  as 
their  stings.  I  had  an  uncomfortable  night  on  this  ac- 
count, though  I  am  not  sure  that  one  succeeded  in  his 
attempt  to  sting  me.  We  did  not  suffer  so  much  from 
insects  on  this  excursion  as  the  statements  of  some  who 
have  explored  these  woods  in  midsummer  led  us  to  an- 
ticipate. Yet  I  have  no  doubt  that  at  some  seasons  and 
in  some  places  they  are  a  much  more  serious  pest.  The 
Jesuit  Hierome  Lalemant,  of  Quebec,  reporting  the  death 
of  Father  Reni  Menard,  who  was  abandoned,  lost  his 
way,  and  died  in  the  woods,  among  the  Ontarios  near 
Lake  Superior,  in  1661,  dwells  chiefly  on  his  probable 
sufferings  from  the  attacks  of  mosquitoes  when  too  weak 
to  defend  himself,  adding  that  there  was  a  frightful  num- 
ber of  them  in  those  parts,  "  and  so  insupportable,"  says 


292  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

he,  "  that  the  three  Frenchmen  who  have  made  that 
voyage,  affirm  that  there  was  no  other  means  of  defend- 
ing one's  self  but  to  run  always  without  stopping,  and  it 
was  even  necessary  for  two  of  them  to  be  employed  in 
driving  off  these  creatures  while  the  third  wanted  to 
drink,  otherwise  he  could  not  have  done  it."  I  have  no 
doubt  that  this  was  said  in  good  faith. 

August  1. 

I  caught  two  or  three  large  red  chivin  (Leuciscus  pul- 
chellus)  early  this  morning,  within  twenty  feet  of  the 
camp,  which,  added  to  the  moose-tongue,  that  had  been 
left  in  the  kettle  boiling  over  night,  and  to  our  other 
stores,  made  a  sumptuous  breakfast.  The  Indian  made 
us  some  hemlock  tea  instead  of  coffee,  and  we  were  not 
obliged  to  go  as  far  as  China  for  it ;  indeed,  not  quite  so 
far  as  for  the  fish.  This  was  tolerable,  though  he  said 
it  was  not  strong  enough.  It  was  interesting  to  see  so 
simple  a  dish  as  a  kettle  of  water  with  a  handful  of  green 
hemlock  sprigs  in  it,  boiling  over  the  huge  fire  in  the 
open  air,  the  leaves  fast  losing  their  lively  green  color, 
and  know  that  it  was  for  our  breakfast. 

We  were  glad  to  embark  once  more,  and  leave  some 
of  the  mosquitoes  behind.  "We  had  passed  the  Wassata- 
quoik  without  perceiving  it.  This,  according  to  the 
Indian,  is  the  name  of  the  main  East  Branch  itself,  and 
not  properly  applied  to  this  small  tributary  alone,  as  on 
the  maps. 

We  found  that  we  had  camped  about  a  mile  above 
Hunt's,  which  is  on  the  east  bank,  and  is  the  last  house 
for  those  who  ascend  Ktaadn  on  this  side. 

We  also  had  expected  to  ascend  it  from  this  point,  but 
omitted  it  on  account  of  the  chafed  feet  of  one  of  my 
companions.  The  Indian,  however,  suggested  that  per- 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  293 

haps  he  might  get  a  pair  of  moccasins  at  this  place,  and 
that  he  could  walk  very  easily  in  them  without  hurting 
his  feet,  wearing  several  pairs  of  stockings,  and  he  said 
beside  that  they  were  so  porous  that  when  you  had  taken 
in  water  it  all  drained  out  again  in  a  little  while.  We 
stopped  to  get  some  sugar,  but  found  that  the  family  had 
moved  away,  and  the  house  was  unoccupied,  except  tem- 
porarily by  some  men  who  were  getting  the  hay.  They 
told  me  that  the  road  to  Ktaadn  left  the  river  eight  miles 
above ;  also  that  perhaps  we  could  get  some  sugar  at 
Fisk's,  fourteen  miles  below.  I  do  not  remember  that 
we  saw  the  mountain  at  all  from  the  river.  I  noticed  a 
seine  here  stretched  on  the  bank,  which  probably  had 
been  used  to  catch  salmon.  Just  below  this,  on  the  west 
bank,  we  saw  a  moose-hide  stretched,  and  with  it  a  bear- 
skin, which  was  comparatively  very  small.  I  was  the 
more  interested  in  this  sight,  because  it  was  near  here 
that  a  townsman  of  ours,  then  quite  a  lad,  and  alone, 
killed  a  large  bear  some  years  ago.  The  Indian  said 
that  they  belonged  to  Joe  Aitteon,  my  last  guide,  but  how 
he  told  I  do  not  know.  He  was  probably  hunting  near, 
and  had  left  them  for  the  day.  Finding  that  we  were 
going  directly  to  Oldtown,  he  regretted  that  he  had  not 
taken  more  of  the  moose-meat  to  his  family,  saying  that 
in  a  short  time,  by  drying  it,  he  could  have  made  it  so 
light  as  to  have  brought  away  the  greater  part,  leaving 
the  bones.  We  once  or  twice  inquired  after  the  lip, 
which  is  a  famous  tit-bit,  but  he  said,  "  That  go  Oldtown 
for  my  old  woman ;  don't  get  it  every  day." 

Maples  grew  more  and  more  numerous.  It  was 
lowering,  and  rained  a  little  during  the  forenoon,  and,  as 
we  expected  a  wetting,  we  stopped  early  and  dined  on 
the  east  side  of  a  small  expansion  of  the  river,  just  above 


294  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

what  are  probably  called  Whetstone  Falls,  about  a  dozen 
miles  below  Hunt's.  There  were  pretty  fresh  moose- 
tracks  by  the  water-side.  There  were  singular  long 
ridges  hereabouts,  called  "horsebacks,"  covered  with 
ferns.  My  companion  having  lost  his  pipe  asked  the 
Indian  if  he  could  not  make  him  one.  "  O  yer,"  said 
he,  and  in  a  minute  rolled  up  one  of  birch-bark,  telling 
him  to  wet  the  bowl  from  time  to  time.  Here  also  he 
left  his  gazette  on  a  tree. 

We  carried  round  the  falls  just  below,  on  the  west  side. 
The  rocks  were  on  their  edges,  and  very  sharp.  The 
distance  was  about  three  fourths  of  a  mile.  When  we 
had  carried  over  one  load,  the  Indian  returned  by  the 
shore,  and  I  by  the  path ;  and  though  I  made  no  particu- 
lar haste,  I  was  nevertheless  surprised  to  find  him  at  the 
other  end  as  soon  as  I.  It  was  remarkable  how  easily 
he  got  along  over  the  worst  ground.  He  said  to  me,  "  I 
take  canoe  and  you  take  the  rest,  suppose  you  can  keep 
along  with  me  ?  "  I  thought  that  he  meant,  that  while  he 
ran  down  the  rapids  I  should  keep  along  the  shore,  and 
be  ready  to  assist  him  from  time  to  time,  as  I  had  done 
before;  but  as  the  walking  would  be  very  bad,  I  an- 
swered, "  I  suppose  you  will  go  too  fast  for  me,  but  I 
will  try."  But  I  was  to  go  by  the  path,  he  said.  This 
I  thought  would  not  help  the  matter,  I  should  have  so  far 
to  go  to  get  to  the  river-side  when  he  wanted  me.  But 
neither  was  this  what  he  meant.  He  was  proposing  a 
race  over  the  carry,  and  asked  me  if  I  thought  I  could 
keep  along  with  him  by  the  same  path,  adding  that  I 
must  be  pretty  smart  to  do  it.  As  his  load,  the  canoe, 
would  be  much  the  heaviest  and  bulkiest,  though  the 
simplest,  I  thought  that  I  ought  to  be  able  to  do  it,  and 
said  that  I  would  try.  So  I  proceeded  to  gather  up  the 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  295 

gun,  axe,  paddle,  kettle,  frying-pan,  plates,  dippers,  car- 
pets, &c.,  &c.,  and  while  I  was  thus  engaged  he  threw  me 
his  cow-hide  boots.  "What,  are  these  in  the  bargain?'* 
"I  asked.  "O  yer,"  said  he;  but  before  I  could  make 
a  bundle  of  my  load  I  saw  him  disappearing  over  a  hill 
with  the  canoe  on*his  head ;  so,  hastily  scraping  the  vari- 
ous articles  together,  I  started  on  the  run,  and  immedi- 
ately went  by  him  in  the  bushes,  but  I  had  no  sooner 
left  him  out  of  sight  in  a  rocky  hollow,  than  the  greasy 
plates,  dippers,  &c.,  took  to  themselves  wings,  and  while 
I  was  employed  in  gathering  them  up  again,  he  went  by 
me ;  but  hastily  pressing  the  sooty  kettle  to  my  side,  I 
started  once  more,  and  soon  passing  him  again,  I  saw 
him  no  more  on  the  carry.  I  do  not  mention  this  as 
anything  of  a  feat,  for  it  was  but  poor  running  on  my 
part,  and  he  was  obliged  to  move  with  great  caution  for 
fear  of  breaking  his  canoe  as  well  as  his  neck.  When 
he  made  his  appearance,  puffing  and  panting  like  myself, 
in  answer  to  my  inquiries  where  he  had  been,  he  said, 
"  Rocks  (locks)  cut  'em  feet,"  and  laughing  added,  "  O, 
me  love  to  play  sometimes."  He  said  that  he  and  his 
companions  when  they  came  to  carries  several  miles 
long  used  to  try  who  would  get  over  first ;  each  perhaps 
with  a  canoe  on  his  head.  I  bore  the  sign  of  the  kettle 
on  my  brown  linen  sack  for  the  rest  of  the  voyage. 

We  made  a  second  carry  on  the  west  side,  around  some 
falls  about  a  mile  below  this.  It  rained  hard  in  the 
night  and  spoiled  another  box  of  matches  for  us,  which 
the  Indian  had  left  out,  for  he  was  very  careless ;  but,  as 
usual,  we  had  so  much  the  better  night  for  the  rain,  since 
it  kept  the  mosquitoes  down. 

SUNDAY,  Augiist  2, — 

Was  a  cloudy  and  unpromising  morning.     One  of  us 


296  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

observed  to  the  Indian,  "  You  did  not  stretch  your  moose- 
hide  last  night,  did  you,  Mr.  Polis  ?  "  Whereat  he  re- 
plied, in  a  tone  of  surprise,  though  perhaps  not  of  ill 
humor  :  "  What  you  ask  me  that  question  for?  Suppose' 
I  stretch  'em,  you  see  'em.  May  be  your  way  talking, 
may  be  all  right,  no  Indian  way."  I  had  observed  that 
he  did  not  wish  to  answer  the  same  question  more  than 
once,  and  was  often  silent  when  it  was  put  again  for  the 
sake  of  certainty,  as  if  he  were  moody.  Not  that  he  was 
incommunicative,  for  he  frequently  commenced  a  long- 
winded  narrative  of  his  own  accord,  —  repeated  at  length 
the  tradition  of  some  old  battle,  or  some  passage  in  the 
recent  history  of  his  tribe  in  which  he  had  acted  a  prom- 
inent part,  from  time  to  time  drawing  a  long  breath, 
and  resuming  the  thread  of  his  tale,  with  the  true  story- 
teller's leisureliness,  perhaps  after  shooting  a  rapid, — 
prefacing  with  "  we-11-by-by,"  &c.,  as  he  paddled  along. 
Especially  after  the  day's  work  was  over,  and  he  had  put 
himself  in  posture  for  the  night,  he  would  be  unexpect- 
edly sociable,  exhibit  even  the  bonhommie  of  a  French- 
man, and  we  would  fall  asleep  before  he  got  through  his 
periods. 

Nickertow  is  called  eleven  miles  from  Mattawamkeag 
by  the  river.  Our  camp  was,  therefore,  about  nine  miles 
from  the  latter  place. 

The  Indian  was  quite  sick  this  morning  with  the  colic. 
I  thought  that  he  was  the  worse  for  the  moose-meat  he 
had  eaten. 

We  reached  the  Mattawamkeag  at  half  past  eight  in 
the  morning,  in  the  midst  of  a  drizzling  rain,  and  after 
buying  some  sugar  set  out  again. 

The  Indian  growing  much  worse,  we  stopped  in  the 
north  part  of  Lincoln  to  get  some  brandy  for  him,  but 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  297 

failing  in  this,  an  apothecary  recommended  Brandreth's 
pills,  which  he  refused  to  take,  because  he  was  not  ac- 
quainted with  them.  He  said  to  me,  "  Me  doctor  —  first 
study  my  case,  find  out  what  ail  'em  —  then  I  know  what 
to  take."  We  dropped  down  a  little  farther,  and  stopped 
at  mid-forenoon  on  an  island  and  made  him  a  dipper  of 
tea.  Here  too  we  dined  and  did  some  washing  and  bot- 
anizing, while  he  lay  on  the  bank.  In  the  afternoon  we 
went  on  a  little  farther,  though  the  Indian  was  no  better. 
"  JSurntibus"  as  he  called  it,  was  a  long  smooth  lake-like 
reach  below  the  Five  Islands.  He  said  that  he  owned 
a  hundred  acres  somewhere  up  this  way.  As  a  thunder- 
shower  appeared  to  be  coming  up,  we  stopped  opposite 
a  barn  on  the  west  bank,  in  Chester,  about  a  mile  above 
Lincoln.  Here  at  last  we  were  obliged  to  spend  the 
rest  of  the  day  and  night,  on  account  of  our  patient, 
whose  sickness  did  not  abate.  He  lay  groaning  under 
his  canoe  on  the  bank,  looking  very  woe-begone,  yet  it 
was  only  a  common  case  of  colic.  You  would  not  have 
thought,  if  you  had  seen  him  lying  about  thus,  that  he 
was  the  proprietor  of  so  many  acres  in  that  neighbor- 
hood, was  worth  $  6,000,  and  had  been  to  Washington. 
It  seemed  to  me  that,  like  the  Irish,  he  made  a  greater  ado 
about  his  sickness  than  a  Yankee  does,  and  was  more 
alarmed  about  himself.  We  talked  somewhat  of  leaving 
him  with  his  people  in  Lincoln,  —  for  that  is  one  of  their 
homes,  —  and  taking  the  stage  the  next  day,  but  he  ob- 
jected on  account  of  the  expense,  saying,  "  Suppose  me 
well  in  morning,  you  and  I  go  Oldtown  by  noon." 

As  we  were  taking  our  tea  at  twilight,  while  he  lay 

groaning  still  under  his  canoe,  having  at  length  found 

out  "  what  ail  him,"  he  asked  me  to  get  him  a  dipper  of 

water.     Taking  the  dipper  in  one  hand,  he  seized  his 

13* 


298  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

powder-horn  with  the  other,  and  pouring  into  it  a  charge 
or  two  of  powder,  stirred  it  up  with  his  finger,  and  drank 
it  off.  This  was  all  he  took  to-day  after  breakfast  beside 
his  tea. 

To  save  the  trouble  of  pitching  our  tent,  when  we 
had  secured  our  stores  from  wandering  dogs,  we  camped 
in  the  solitary  half-open  barn  near  the  bank,  with  the 
permission  of  the  owner,  lying  on  new-mown  hay  four 
feet  deep.  The  fragrance  of  the  hay,  in  which  many 
ferns,  &c.  were  mingled,  was  agreeable,  though  it  was 
quite  alive  with  grasshoppers  which  you  could  hear 
crawling  through  it.  This  served  to  graduate  our  ap- 
proach to  houses  and  feather-beds.  In  the  night  some 
large  bird,  probably  an  owl,  flitted  through  over  our 
heads,  and  very  early  in  the  morning  we  were  awakened 
by  the  twittering  of  swallows  which  had  their  nests  there. 

MONDAY,  August  3. 

We  started  early  before  breakfast,  the  Indian  being 
considerably  better,  and  soon  glided  by  Lincoln,  and  after 
another  long  and  handsome  lake-like  reach,  we  stopped 
to  breakfast  on  the  west  shore,  two  or  three  miles  below 
this  town. 

We  frequently  passed  Indian  Islands  with  their  small 
houses  on  them.  The  Governor,  Aitteon,  lives  in  one  of 
them,  in  Lincoln. 

The  Penobscot  Indians  seem  to  be  more  social,  even, 
than  the  whites.  Ever  and  anon  in  the  deepest  wilder- 
ness of  Maine  you  come  to  the  log-hut  of  a  Yankee  or 
Canada  settler,  but  a  Penobscot  never  takes  up  his  resi- 
dence in  such  a  solitude.  They  are  not  even  scattered 
about  on  their  islands  in  the  Penobscot,  which  are  all 
within  the  settlements,  but  gathered  together  on  two  or 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  299 

three,  —  though  not  always  on  the  best  soil,  —  evidently 
for  the  sake  of  society.  I  saw  one  or  two  houses  not 
now  used  by  them,  because,  as  our  Indian  Polis  said, 
they  were  too  solitary. 

The  small  river  emptying  in  at  Lincoln  is  the  Mata- 
nancook,  which  also,  we  noticed,  was  the  name  of  a 
steamer  moored  there.  So  we  paddled  and  floated  along, 
looking  into  the  mouths  of  rivers.  When  passing  the 
Mohawk  Rips,  or,  as  the  Indian  called  them,  "  Mohog 
lips,"  four  or  five  miles  below  Lincoln,  he  told  us  at 
length  the  story  of  a  fight  between  his  tribe  and  the  Mo- 
hawks there,  anciently,  —  how  the  latter  were  overcome 
by  stratagem,  the  Penobscots  using  concealed  knives,  — 
but  they  could  not  for  a  long  time  kill  the  Mohawk  chief, 
who  was  a  very  large  and  strong  man,  though  he  was 
attacked  by  several  canoes  at  once,  when  swimming  alone 
in  the  river. 

From  time  to  time  we  met  Indians  in  their  canoes, 
going  up  river.  Our  man  did  not  commonly  approach 
them,  but  exchanged  a  few  words  with  them  at  a  distance 
in  his  tongue.  These  were  the  first  Indians  we  had  met 
since  leaving  the  Umbazookskus. 

At  Piscataquis  Falls,  just  above  the  river  of  that  name, 
we  walked  over  the  wooden  railroad  on  the  eastern  shore, 
about  one  and  a  half  miles  long,  while  the  Indian  glided 
down  the  rapids.  The  steamer  from  Oldtown  stops  here, 
and  passengers  take  a  new  boat  above.  Piscataquis, 
whose  mouth  we  here  passed,  means  "  branch."  It  is  ob- 
structed by  falls  at  its  mouth,  but  can  be  navigated  with 
bateaux  or  canoes  above  through  a  settled  country, 
even  to  the  neighborhood  of  Moosehead  Lake,  and  we 
had  thought  at  first  of  going  that  way.  We  were  not 
obliged  to  get  out  of  the  canoe  after  this  on  account  of 


300  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

falls  or  rapids,  nor,  indeed,  was  it  quite  necessary  here. 
We  took  less  notice  of  the  scenery  to-day,  because  we 
were  in  quite  a  settled  country.  The  river  became 
broad  and  sluggish,  and  we  saw  a  blue  heron  winging 
its  way  slowly  down  the  stream  before  us. 

We  passed  the  Passadumkeag  River  on  our  left  and 
saw  the  blue  Olamon  mountains  at  a  distance  in  the  south- 
east. Hereabouts  our  Indian  told  us  at  length  the  story 
of  their  contention  with  the  priest  respecting  schools.  He 
thought  a  great  deal  of  education  and  had  recommended 
it  to  his  tribe.  His  argument  in  its  favor  was,  that  if  you 
had  been  to  college  and  learnt  to  calculate,  you  could 
"  keep  'em  property,  —  no  other  way."  He  said  that  his 
boy  was  the  best  scholar  in  the  school  at  Oldtown,  to 
which  he  went  with  whites.  He  himself  is  a  Protestant, 
and  goes  to  church  regularly  in  Oldtown.  According  to 
his  account,  a  good  many  of  his  tribe  are  Protestants,  and 
many  of  the  Catholics  also  are  in  favor  of  schools.  Some 
years  ago  they  had  a  schoolmaster,  a  Protestant,  whom 
they  liked  very  well.  The  priest  came  and  said  that 
they  must  send  him  away,  and  finally  he  had  such  influ- 
ence, telling  them  that  they  would  go  to  the  bad  place  at 
last  if  they  retained  him,  that  they  sent  him  away.  The 
school  party,  though  numerous,  were  about  giving  up. 
Bishop  Fenwick  came  from  Boston  and  used  his  influ- 
ence against  them.  But  our  Indian  told  his  side  that 
they  must  not  give  up,  must  hold  on,  they  were  the 
strongest.  If  they  gave  up,  then  they  would  have  no 
party.  But  they  answered  that  it  was  "  no  use,  priest 
too  strong,  we  'd  better  give  up."  At  length  he  per- 
suaded them  to  make  a  stand. 

The  priest  was  going  for  a  sign  to  cut  down  the  lib- 
erty-pole. So  Polis  and  his  party  had  a  secret  meeting 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.  301 

about  it;  he  got  ready  fifteen  or  twenty  stout  young 
men,  "  stript  'em  naked,  and  painted  'em  like  old  times," 
and  told  them  that  when  the  priest  and  his  party  went  to 
cut  down  the  liberty-pole,  they  were  to  rush  up,  take  hold 
of  it  and  prevent  them,  and  he  assured  them  that  there 
would  be  no  war,  only  a  noise,  "no  war  where  priest 
is."  He  kept  his  men  concealed  in  a  house  near  by,  and 
when  the  priest's  party  were  about  to  cut  down  the  lib- 
erty-pole, the  fall  of  which  would  have  been  a  death-blow 
to  the  school  party,  he  gave  a  signal,  and  his  young  men 
rushed  out  and  seized  the  pole.  There  was  a  great  up- 
roar, and  they  were  about  coming  to  blows,  but  the  priest 
interfered,  saying,  "  No  war,  no  war,"  and  so  the  pole 
stands,  and  the  school  goes  on  still. 

We  thought  that  it  showed  a  good  deal  of  tact  in  him, 
to  seize  this  occasion  and  take  his  stand  on  it ;  proving 
how  well  he  understood  those  with  whom  he  had  to  deal. 

The  Olamon  River  comes  in  from  the  east  in  Green- 
bush  a  few  miles  below  the  Passadumkeag.  When  we 
asked  the  meaning  of  this  name,  the  Indian  said  that  there 
was  an  island  opposite  its  mouth  which  was  called  Olar- 
mon.  That  in  old  times,  when  visitors  were  coming  to 
Oldtown,  they  used  to  stop  there  to  dress  and  fix  up  or 
paint  themselves.  "  What  is  that  which  ladies  used  ?  " 
he  asked.  Rouge  ?  Red  vermilion  ?  "  Yer,"  he  said, 
"  that  is  larmon,  a  kind  of  clay  or  red  paint,  which  they 
used  to  get  here." 

We  decided  that  we  too  would  stop  at  this  island,  and 
fix  up  our  inner  man,  at  least,  by  dining. 

It  was  a  large  island  with  an  abundance  of  hemp-net- 
tle, but  I  did  not  notice  any  kind  of  red  paint  there. 
The  Olarmon  River,  at  its  mouth  at  least,  is  a  dead 
stream.  There  was  another  large  island  in  that  neigh- 


302  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

borhood,  which  the  Indian  called  "  Soogle  "  (i.  e.  Sugar) 
Island. 

About  a  dozen  miles  before  reaching  Oldtown  he  in- 
quired, "  How  you  like  'em  your  pilot  ?  "  JLJut  we  post- 
poned an  answer  till  we  had  got  quite  back  again. 

The  Sunkhaze,  another  short  dead  stream,  comes  in 
from  the  east  two  miles  above  Oldtown.  There  is  said 
to  be  some  of  the  best  deer  ground  in  Maine  on  this 
stream.  Asking  the  meaning  of  this  name,  the  Indian 
said,  "  Suppose  you  are  going  down  Penobscot,  just 
like  we,  and  you  see  a  canoe  come  out  of  bank  and  go 
along  before  you,  but  you  no  see  'em  stream.  That  is 
Sunkhaze." 

He  had  previously  complimented  me  on  my  paddling, 
saying  that  I  paddled  "just  like  anybody,"  giving  me  an 
Indian  name  which  meant  "  great  paddler."  When  off 
this  stream  he  said  to  me,  who  sat  in  the  bows,  "  Me 
teach  you  paddle."  So  turning  toward  the  shore  he  got 
out,  came  forward  and  placed  my  hands  as  he  wished. 
He  placed  one  of  them  quite  outside  the  boat,  and  the 
other  parallel  with  the  first,  grasping  the  paddle  near  the 
end,  not  over  the  flat  extremity,  and  told  me  to  slide  it 
back  and  forth  on  the  side  of  the  canoe.  This,  I  found, 
was  a  great  improvement  which  I  had  not  thought  of, 
saving  me  the  labor  of  lifting  the  paddle  each  time,  and 
I  wondered  that  he  had  not  suggested  it  before.  It  is 
true,  before  our  baggage  was  reduced  we  had  been 
obliged  to  sit  with  our  legs  drawn  up,  and  our  knees 
above  the  side  of  the  canoe,  which  would  have  prevented 
our  paddling  thus,  or  perhaps  he  was  afraid  of  wearing 
out  his  canoe,  by  constant  friction  on  the  side. 

I  told  him  that  I  had  been  accustomed  to  sit  in  the 
stern,  and  lifting  my  paddle  at  each  stroke,  getting  a  pry 


THE  ALLEGASH  AND  EAST  BRANCH.     303 

on  the  side  each  time,  and  I  still  paddled  partly  as  if  in 
the  stern.  He  then  wanted  to  see  me  paddle  in  the  stern. 
So,  changing  paddles,  for  he  had  the  longer  and  better 
one,  and  turning  end  for  end,  he  sitting  flat  on  the  bot- 
tom and  I  on  the  crossbar,  he  began  to  paddle  very  hard, 
trying  to  turn  the  canoe,  looking  over  his  shoulder  and 
laughing,  but  finding  it  in  vain  he  relaxed  his  efforts, 
though  we  still  sped  along  a  mile  or  two  very  swiftly. 
He  said  that  he  had  no  fault  to  find  with  my  paddling  in 
the  stern,  but  I  cpmplained  that  he  did  not  paddle  accord 
ing  to  his  own  directions  in  the  bows. 

Opposite  the  Sunkhaze  is  the  main  boom  of  the  Pe- 
nobscot,  where  the  logs  from  far  up  the  river  are  collected 
and  assorted. 

As  we  drew  near  to  Oldtown  I  asked  Polls  if  he  was 
not  glad  to  get  home  again ;  but  there  was  no  relenting 
to  his  wildness,  and  he  said,  "  It  makes  no  difference  to 
me  where  I  am."  Such  is  the  Indian's  pretence  always. 

We  approached  the  Indian  Island  through  the  narrow 
strait  called  "  Cook."  He  said,  "  I  'xpect  we  take  in 
some  water  there,  river  so  high,  — never  see  it  so  high  at 
this  season.  Very  rough  water  there,  but  short ;  swamp 
steamboat  once.  Don't  you  paddle  till  I  tell  you,  then 
you  paddle  right  along."  It  was  a  very  short  rapid. 
"When  we  were  in  the  midst  of  it  he  shouted  "  paddle," 
and  we  shot  through  without  taking  in  a  drop. 

Soon  after  the  Indian  houses  came  in  sight,  but  I 
could  not  at  first  tell  my  companion  which  of  two  or  three 
large  white  ones  was  our  guide's.  He  said  it  was  the  one 
with  blinds. 

We  landed  opposite  his  ctoor  at  about  four  in  the  after- 
noon, having  come  some  forty  miles  this  day.  From  the 
Piscataquis  we  had  come  remarkably  and  unaccountably 


304  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 

quick,  probably  as  fast  as  the  stage  or  the  boat,  though 
the  last  dozen  miles  was  dead  water. 

Polis  wanted  to  sell  us  his  canoe,  said  it  would  last 
seven  or  eight  years,  or  with  care,  perhaps  ten ;  but  we 
were  not  ready  to  buy  it. 

We  stopped  for  an  hour  at  his  house,  where  my  com- 
panion shaved  with  his  razor,  which  he  pronounced  in 
very  good  condition.  Mrs.  P.  wore  a  hat  and  had  a  sil- 
ver brooch  on  her  breast,  but  she  was  not  introduced  to 
us.  The  house  was  roomy  and  neat.  A  large  new  map 
of  Oldtown  and  the  Indian  Island  hung  on  the  wall,  and 
a  clock  opposite  to  it.  "Wishing  to  know  when  the  cars 
left  Oldtown,  Polis's  son  brought  one  of  the  last  Bangor 
papers,  which  I  saw  was  directed  to  "Joseph  Polis," 
from  the  office. 

This  was  the  last  that  I  saw  of  Joe  Polis.  We  took 
the  last  train,  and  reached  Bangor  that  night. 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


I.     TREES. 

THE  prevailing  trees  (I  speak  only  of  what  I  saw)  on  the  east 
and  west  branches  of  the  Penobscot  and  on  the  upper  part  of  the 
Allegash  were  the  fir,  spruce  (both  black  and  white),  and  arbor- 
vitse,  or  "  cedar."  The  fir  has  the  darkest  foliage,  and,  together 
with  the  spruce,  makes  a  very  dense  "  black  growth,"  especially 
on  the  upper  parts  of  the  rivers.  A  dealer  in  lumber  with  whom 
I  talked  called  the  former  a  weed,  and  it  is  commonly  regarded  as 
fit  neither  for  timber  nor  fuel.  But  it  is  more  sought  after  as  an 
ornamental  tree  than  any  other  evergreen  of  these  woods  except 
the  arbor-vitae.  The  black  spruce  is  much  more  common  than  the 
white.  Both  are  tall  and  slender  trees.  The  arbor-vitae,  which  is 
of  a  more  cheerful  hue,  with  its  light-green  fans,  is  also  tall  and 
slender,  though  sometimes  two  feet  in  diameter.  It  often  fills  the 
swamps. 

Mingled  with  the  former,  and  also  here  and  there  forming  exten- 
sive and  more  'open  woods  by  themselves,  indicating,  it  is  said,  a 
better  soil,  were  canoe  and  yellow  birches  (the  former  was  always 
at  hand  for  kindling  a  fire,  —  we  saw  no  small  white-birches  in  that 
wilderness),  and  sugar  and  red  maples. 

The  Aspen  (Populus  tremuloides)  was  very  common  on  burnt 
grounds.  We  saw  many  straggling  white  pines,  commonly  unsound 
trees,  which  had  therefore  been  skipped  by  the  choppers;  these 
were  the  largest  trees  we  saw  ;  and  we  occasionally  passed  a  small 
wood  in  which  this  was  the  prevailing  tree ;  but  I  did  not  notice 
nearly  so  many  of  these  trees  as  I  can  see  in  a  single  walk  in  Con- 
cord. The  speckled  or  hoary  alder  (Alnus  incana)  abounds  every- 
where along  the  muddy  banks  of  rivers  and  lakes,  and  in  swamps. 
Hemlock  could  commonly  be  found  for  tea,  but  was  nowhere  abun- 


308  APPENDIX. 

dant.  Yet  F.  A.  Michaux  states  that  in  Maine,  Vermont,  and  the 
upper  part  of  New  Hampshire,  &c.,  the  hemlock  forms  three  fourths 
of  the  evergreen  woods,  the  rest  being  black  spruce.  It  belongs  to 
cold  hillsides. 

The  elm  and  black  ash  were  very  common  along  the  lower  and 
stiller  parts  of  the  streams,  where  the  shores  were  flat  and  grassy 
or  there  were  low  gravelly  islands.  They  made  a  pleasing* variety 
in  the  scenery,  and  we  felt  as  if  nearer  home  while  gliding  past 
them. 

The  above  fourteen  trees  made  the  bulk  of  the  woods  which 
we  saw. 

The  larch  (Juniper),  beech,  and  Norway  pine  (Pinus  resinosa, 
red  pine),  were  only  occasionally  seen  in  particular  places.  The 
Pinus  Banksiana  (gray  or  Northern  scrub-pine),  and  a  single  small 
red  oak  ( Quercus  rubra)  only,  are  on  islands  in  Grand  Lake,  on  the 
East  Branch. 

The  above  are  almost  all  peculiarly  Northern  trees,  and  found 
chiefly,  if  not  solely,  on  mountains  southward. 


II.     FLOWEKS  AND    SHEUBS. 

IT  appears  that  in  a  forest  like  this  the  great  majority  of  flowers, 
shrubs,  and  grasses  are  confined  to  the  banks  of  the  rivers  and 
lakes,  and  to  the  meadows,  more  open  swamps,  burnt  lands,  and 
mountain-tops ;  comparatively  very  few  indeed  penetrate  the  woods. 
There  is  no  such  dispersion  even  of  wild-flowers  as  is  commonly 
supposed,  or  as  exists  in  a  cleared  and  settled  country.  Most  of 
our  wild-flowers,  so  called,  may  be  considered  as  naturalized  in  the 
localities  where  they  grow.  Rivers  and  lakes  are  the  great  protec- 
tors of  such  plants  against  the  aggressions  of  the  forest,  by  their 
annual  rise  and  fall  keeping  open  a  narrow  strip  where  these  more 
delicate  plants  have  light  and  space  in  which  to  grow.  They  are 
the  proteges  of  the  rivers.  These  narrow  and  straggling  bands 
and  isolated  groups  are,  in  a  sense,  the  pioneers  of  civilization. 
Birds,  quadrupeds,  insects,  and  man  also,  in  the  main,  follow  the 
flowers,  and  the  latter  in  his  turn  makes  more  room  for  them  and 


APPENDIX.  309 

for  berry-bearing  shrubs,  birds,  and  small  quadrupeds.  One  settler 
told  me  that  not  only  blackberries  and  raspberries,  but  mountain- 
maples  came  in,  in  the  clearing  and  burning. 

Though  plants  are  often  referred  to  primitive  woods  as  their 
locality,  it  cannot  be  true  of  very  many,  unless  the  woods  are  sup- 
posed to  include  such  localities  as  I  have  mentioned.  Only  those 
which  require  but  little  light,  and  can  bear  the  drip  of  the  trees, 
penetrate  the  woods,  and  these  have  commonly  more-  beauty  in 
their  leaves  than  in  their  pale  and  almost  colorless  blossoms. 

The  prevailing  flowers  and  conspicuous  small  plants  of  the 
woods,  which  I  noticed,  were :  Clintonia  borealis,  Linncea,  checker- 
berry  (Gauliheria  procumbens),  Aralia  nudicaulis  (wild  sarsaparilla), 
great  round-leaved  orchis,  Dalibarda  repens,  Chiogenes  hispidula 
(creeping  snowberry),  Oxalis  acetosella  (common  wood-sorrel),  As- 
ter acuminatus,  Pyrola  secunda  (one-sided  pyrola),  Medeola  Virginica 
(Indian  cucumber-root),  small  Circcea  (enchanter's  nightshade), 
and  perhaps  Cornus  Canadensis  (dwarf  cornel). 

Of  these,  the  last  of  July,  1858,  only  the  Aster  acuminatus  and 
great  round-leaved  orchis  were  conspicuously  in  bloom. 

The  most  common  flowers  of  the  river  and  lake  shores  were  : 
Thalictrum  cornuti  (meadow- rue ) ,  Hypericum  ellipticum,mutilum,  and 
Canadense  (St.  John's-wort),  horsemint,  horehound,  Lycopus  Vir- 
ginicus  and  Europceus,  var.  sinuatus  (bugle-weed),  Scutellaria  gale- 
riculata  (skull-cap),  Solidago  lanceolata  and  squarrosa  East  Branch 
(golden-rod),  Diplopappus  umbellatus  (double-bristled  aster),  Aster 
radula,  Cicuta  maculata  and  bulbifera  (water-hemlock),  meadow- 
sweet, Lysimadiia  stricta  and  ciliata  (loose-strife),  Galium  trifidum 
(small  bed-straw),  Lilium  Canadense  (wild  yellow-lily),  Platanthei'a, 
peram<zna  and  psycodes  (great  purple  orchis  and  small  purple- 
fringed  orchis),  Mimulus  ringens  (monkey-flower),  dock  (water), 
blue  flag,  Hydrocotyle  Americana  (marsh  pennywort),  Sanicula  Can- 
adensis'? (black  snake-root),  Clematis  Virginiana?  (common  vir- 
gin's-bower),  Nasturtium  palustre  (marsh  cress),  Ranunculus  recurva- 
tus  (hooked  crowfoot),  Asclepias  incarnata  (swamp  milkweed ),  Aster 
Tradescanti  (Tradescant's  aster),  Aster  miser,  also  longifolius,  Eu- 
patorium  purpureum  apparently,  lake  shores  (Joe-Pye-weed),  Apocy- 
num  Cannabinum  East  Branch  (Indian  hemp),  Polygonum  cilinode 
(bind-weed),  and  others.  Not  to  mention  among  inferior  orders 
wool-grass  and  the  sensitive  fern. 


310  APPENDIX. 

In  the  water,  Nuphar  advena  (yellow  pond-lily),  some  potamoge- 
tons  (pond- weed),  Sagittaria  variabilis  (arrow-head),  Slum  lineare? 
(water-parsnip). 

Of  these,  those  conspicuously  in  flower  the  last  of  July,  1857, 
were  :  rue,  Solidago  lanceolata  and  squarrosa,  Diplopappus  umbellatus, 
Aster  radula,  Lilium  Canadense,  great  and  small  purple  orchis,  Mi- 
mulus  ringens,  blue  flag,  virgin's-bower,  &c. 

The  characteristic  flowers  in  swamps  were  :  Rubus  triflorus  (dwarf 
raspberry),  Calla  palustris  (water-arum),  and  Sarracenia  purpurea 
(pitcher-plant).  On  burnt  grounds :  Epilobium  angustifolium,  in  full 
bloom  (great  willow-herb),  and  Erechthites  hieracifolia  (fire-weed). 
On  cliffs:  Campanula  rotundifdia  (harebell),  Cornus  Canadensis 
(dwarf  cornel),  Arctostaphylos  uva-ursi  (bearberry),  Potentilla  tri- 
dentata  (mountain  cinquefoil),  Pteris  aquilina  (common  brake). 
At  old  camps,  carries,  and  logging-paths:  Cirsium  arvense  (Canada 
thistle),  Prunella  vulgaris  (common  self-heal),  clover,  herds-grass, 
Achillea  millefolium  (common  yarrow),  Leucanthemum  vulgare  (white- 
weed),  Aster  macrophyllus,  Halenia  deflexa  East  Branch  (spurred 
gentian),  Antennaria  margaritacea  (pearly  everlasting),  Actcea  rubra 
and  alba,  wet  carries  (red  and  white  cohosh),  Desmodium  Canadense 
(tick-trefoil),  sorrel. 

The  handsomest  and  most  interesting  flowers  were  the  great 
purple  orchises,  rising  ever  and  anon,  with  their  great  purple  spikes 
perfectly  erect,  amid  the  shrubs  and  grasses  of  the  shore.  It  seemed 
strange  that  they  should  be  made  to  grow  there  in  such  profusion, 
seen  of  moose  and  moose-hunters  only,  while  they  are  so  rare  in 
Concord.  I  have  never  seen  this  species  flowering  nearly  so  late 
with  us,  or  with  the  small  one. 

The  prevailing  underwoods  were  :  Dirca  palustris  (moose-wood), 
Acer  spicatum  (mountain  maple),  Viburnum  lantanoides  (hobble- 
bush),  and  frequently  Taxus  baccata,  var.  Canadensis  (American 
yew). 

The  prevailing  shrubs  and  small  trees  along  the  shore  were  : 
osier  rouge  and  alders  (before  mentioned) ;  sallows,  or  small  wil- 
lows, of  two  or  three  kinds,  as  Salix  humilis,  rostrata,  and  discolor  ?, 
Sambucus  Canadensis  (black  elder),  rose,  Viburnum  opulus  and  nu- 
dum  (cranberry-tree  and  withe-rod),  Pyrus  Americana  (American 
mountain-ash),  Corylus  rostrata  (beaked  hazel-nut),  Diervilla  trifida 
(bush-honeysuckle),  Prunus  Virginiana  (choke-cherry),  Myrica  gale 


APPENDIX.  311 

(sweet-gale),  Nemopanthes  Canadensis  (mountain  holly),  Cephalan- 
thus  occidentalis  (button-bush),  Ribes  prostratum,  in  some  places 
(fetid  currant). 

More  particularly  of  shrubs  and  small  trees  in  swamps:  some 
willows,  Kalmia  glauca  (pale  laurel),  Ledum  latifolium  zndpalustre 
(Labrador  tea),  Ribes  lacustre  (swamp  gooseberry),  and  in  one  place 
Betula  pumila  (low  birch).  At  camps  and  carries:  raspberry,  Vac- 
cinium  Canadense  (Canada  blueberry),  Prunus  Pennsylvanica  also 
along  shore  (wild  red  cherry),  Amdanchier  Canadensis  (shad-bush), 
Sambucus  pubens  (red-berried  elder).  Among  those  peculiar  to  the 
mountains  would  be  the  Vaccinium  vitis-idcea  (cow-berry). 

Of  plants  commonly  regarded  as  introduced  from  Europe,  I 
observed  at  Ansel  Smith's  clearing,  Chesuncook,  abundant  in 
1857  :  Ranunculus  acris  (buttercups),  Plantago  major  (common 
plantain),  Chenopodium  album  (lamb's-quarters),  Capsella  bursa-pas- 
toris,  1853  (shepherd 's-purse),  Spergula  arvensis,  also,  north  shore 
of  Moosehead,  in  1853,  and  elsewhere,  1857  (corn-spurrey), 
Taraxacum  dens-leonis — regarded  as  indigenous  by  Gray,  but  evi- 
dently introduced  there  —  (common  dandelion),  Polygonum  Persica- 
ria  and  liydropiper,  by  a  logging-path  in  woods  at  Smith's  (lady's- 
thumb  and  smart-weed),  Rumex  acetosella,  common  at  carries  (sheep- 
sorrel),  Trifolium  pratense,  1853,  and  carries  frequent  (red  clover), 
Leucanthemumvulgare,  carries  (white weed ),  Phleum pratense,  carries, 
1853-7  (herd's-grass),  Verbena  hastata  (blue  vervain),  Cirsium  ar- 
vense,  abundant  at  camps  1857  (Canada  thistle),  Rumex  crispus?, 
West  Branch,  1853  ?  (curled  dock),  Verbascum  thapsus,  between 
Bangor  and  lake,  1853  (common  mullein). 

It  appears  that  I  saw  about  a  dozen  plants  which  had  accom- 
panied man  as  far  into  the  woods  as  Chesuncook,  and  had  natu- 
ralized themselves  there,  in  1853.  Plants  begin  thus  early  to  spring 
by  the  side  of  a  logging-path,  —  a  mere  vista  through  the  woods, 
which  can  only  be  used  in  the  winter,  on  account  of  the  stumps 
and  fallen  trees,  —  which  at  length  are  the  roadside  plants  in  old 
settlements.  The  pioneers  of  such  are  planted  in  part  by  the  first 
cattle,  which  cannot  be  summered  in  the  woods. 


312  APPENDIX. 

m.    LIST   OF  PLANTS. 

THE  following  is  a  list  of  the  plants  which  I  noticed  in  the 
Maine  woods,  in  the  years  1853  and  1857.  (Those  marked  * 
not  in  woods.) 

1.     THOSE  WHICH  ATTAINED  THE  HEIGHT  or  TREES. 

Alnus  incana  (speckled  or  hoary  alder),  abundant  along  streams, 
&c. 

Thuja  occidentalis  (American  arbor- vitas),  one  of  the  prevailing. 

Fraxinus  sambucifolia  (black  ash),  very  common,  especially  near 
dead  water.  The  Indian  spoke  of  "yellow  ash"  as  also  found 
there. 

Populus  tremuloides  (American  aspen),  very  common,  especially 
on  burnt  lands,  almost  as  white  as  birches. 

Populus  grandidentata  (large-toothed  aspen),  perhaps  two  or 
three. 

Fagus  ferruginea  (American  beech),  not  uncommon, 'at  least  on 
the  West  Branch  (saw  more  in  1846). 

Betula  papyracea  (canoe-birch),  prevailing  everywhere  and  about 
Bangor. 

Betula  excelsa  (yellow  birch),  very  common. 

Betula  lento,  (black  birch),  on  the  West  Branch,  in  1853. 

Betula  alba  (American  white  birch),  about  Bangor  only. 

Ulmus  Americana  (American  or  white  elm),  West  Branch  and 
low  down  the  East  Branch,  i.  e.  on  the  lower  and  alluvial  part  of 
the  river,  very  common. 

Larix  Americana  (American  or  black  larch),  very  common  on 
the  Umbazookskus,  some  elsewhere. 

Abies  Canadensis  (hemlock-spruce),  not  abundant,  some  on  the 
West  Branch,  and  a  little  everywhere. 

Acer  saccharinum  (sugar  maple),  very  common. 

Acer  rubrum  (red  or  swamp  maple),  very  common. 

Acer  dasycarpum  (white  or  silver  maple),  a  little  low  on  East 
Branch  and  in  Chesuncook  woods. 

Quercus  rubra  (red  oak),  one  on  an  island  in  Grand  Lake,  East 
Branch,  and,  according  to  a  settler,  a  few  on  the  east  side  of  Che- 
suncook Lake;  a  few  also  about  Bangor  in  1853. 


APPENDIX.  313 

Pinus  strobus  (white  pine),  scattered  along,  most  abundant  at 
Heron  Lake. 

Pinus  resinosa  (red  pine),  Telos  and  Grand  Lake,  a  little  after- 
wards here  and  .there. 

Abies  balsamea  (balsam  fir),  perhaps  the  most  common  tree,  es- 
pecially in  the  upper  parts  of  rivers. 

Abies  nigra  (black  or  double  spruce),  next  to  the  last  the  most 
common,  if  not  equally  common,  and  on  mountains. 

Abies  alba  (white  or  single  spruce),  common  with  the  last  along 
the  rivers. 

Pinus  Banksiana  (gray  or  Northern  scrub-pine),  a  few  on  an 
island  in  Grand  Lake. 

Twenty-three  in  all  (23). 

2.     SMALL  TREES  AND  SHRUBS. 

Prunus  depressa  (dwarf-cherry),  on  gravel  bars,  East  Branch,  near 
Hunt's,  with  green  fruit,  obviously  distinct  from  the  pumila  of  river 
and  meadows. 

Vaccinium  corymbosum  (common  swamp  blueberry),  Bucksport. 

Vacdnium  Canadense  (Canada  blueberry),  carries  and  rocky  hills 
everywhere  as  far  south  as  Bucksport. 

Vaccinium  Pennsylvanicum  (dwarf-blueberry  ?),  Whetstone  Falls. 

Betula pumila  (low  birch),  Mud  Pond  Swamp. 

Prinos  vertidllata  (black  alder,  '57),  now  placed  with  Hex  by 
Gray,  2d  ed. 

Cephalanthus  occidentalis  (button-bush). 

Prunus  Pennsylvania  (wild  red  cherry),  very  common  at  camps, 
carries,  &c.,  along  rivers ;  fruit  ripe  August  1,  1857. 

Prunus  Virginiana  (choke-cherry),  river-side,  common. 

Cornus  alternifolia  (alternate-leaved  cornel),  West  Branch,  1853. 

Ribes  prostratum  (fetid  currant),  common  along  streams,  on  Web- 
ster Stream. 

Sambucus  Canadensis  (common  elder),  common  along  river- 
sides. 

Sambucus  pubens  (red-berried  elder),  not  quite  so  common,  road- 
sides toward  Moosehead,  and  on  carries  afterward,  fruit  beautiful. 

Ribes  lacustre  (swamp-gooseberry),  swamps,  common,  Mud  Pond 
Swamp  and  Webster  Stream;  not  ripe  July  29,  1857. 
14 


314:  APPENDIX. 

Corylus  rostrata  (beaked  hazel-nut),  common. 

Taxus  baccata,  var.  Canadensis  (American  yew),  a  common  un- 
der-shrub  at  an  island  in  West  Branch  and  Chesuncook  woods. 

Viburnum  lantanoides  (hobble-bush),  common,  especially  in  Che- 
suncook woods  ;  fruit  ripe  in  September,  1853,  not  in  July,  1857. 

Viburnum  opulus  (cranberry-tree),  on  West  Branch ;  one  in  flower 
still,  July  25,  1857. 

Viburnum  nudum  (withe-rod),  common  along  rivers. 

Kalmia  ylauca  (pale  laurel),  swamps,  common,  as  at  Moosehead 
carry  and  Chamberlain  swamp. 

Kalmia  angustifolia  (lamb-kill),  with  Kalmia  glauca. 

Acer  spicatum  (mountain  maple),  a  prevailing  underwood. 

Acer  striatum  (striped  maple),  in  fruit  July  30,  1857  ;  green  the 
first  year ;  green,  striped  with  white,  the  second;  darker,  the  third, 
with  dark  blotches. 

Cornus  stolonifera  (red-osier  dogwood),  prevailing  shrub  on  shore 
of  West  Branch;  fruit  still  white  in  August,  1857. 

Pyrus  Americana  (American  mountain  ash),  common  along 
shores. 

Amelanchier  Canadensis  (shad-bush),  rocky  carries,  &c.  5  consider- 
able fruit  in  1857. 

Rubus  strigosus  (wild  red  raspberry),  very  abundant,  burnt 
grounds,  camps,  and  carries,  but  not  ripe  till  we  got  to  Cham 
berlain  dam  and  on  East  Branch. 

Rosa  Carolina  (swamp-rose),  common  on  the  shores  of  lakes,  &c. 

Rhus  typhina*  (stag-horn  sumac). 

Myrica  gale  (sweet-gale),  common. 

Nemopanthes  Canadensis  (mountain  holly),  common  in  low 
ground,  Moosehead  carry,  and  on  Mount  Kineo. 

Cratcegus  (coccinea?  scarlet-fruited  thorn),  not  uncommon;  with 
hard  fruit  in  September,  1 853. 

Salix  (near  to  petiolaris,  petioled  willow),  very  common  in  Um- 
bazookskus  meadows. 

Salix  rostrata  (long-beaked  willow),  common. 

Salix  humilis  (low  bush-willow),  common. 

Salix  discolor  (glaucous  willow/?). 

Salix  lucida  (shining  willow),  at  island  in  Heron  lake. 

Dirca  palustris  (moose-wood),  common. 

In  all,  38. 


APPENDIX.  315 

3.     SMALL  SHRUBS  AND  HERBACEOUS  PLANTS. 

Agrimonia  Eupatoria  (common  agrimony),  not  uncommon. 

Circcea  Alpina  (enchanter's  nightshade),  very  common  in  woods. 

Nasturtium  palustre  (marsh  cress),  var.  hispidum,  common  as  at 
A.  Smith's. 

Aralia  hispida  (bristly  sarsaparilla),  on  West  Branch,  both  years. 

Aralia  nudicaulis  (wild  sarsaparilla),  Chesuncook  woods. 

Sagittaria  variabilis  (arrow-head),  common  at  Moosehead  and 
afterward. 

Arum  triphyllum  (Indian  turnip),  now  amcema,  Moosehead  carry 
in  1853. 

Asclepias  incarnata  (swamp  milk-weed),  Umbazookskus  River 
and  after,  redder  than  ours,  and  a  different  variety  from  our  var. 
pulchra. 

Aster  acuminatus  (pointed-leaved  aster),  the  prevailing  aster  in 
woods,  not  long  open  on  South  Branch  July  31st;  two  or  more  feet 
high. 

Aster  macrophyttus  (large-leaved  aster),  common,  and  the  whole 
plant  surprisingly  fragrant,  like  a  medicinal  herb,  just  out  at  Telos 
Dam  July  29,  1857,  and  after  to  Bangor  and  Bucksport ;  bluish 
flower  (in  woods  on  Pine  Stream  and  at  Chesuncook  in  1853). 

Aster  radula  (rough-leaved  aster),  common,  Moosehead  carry 
and  after. 

Aster  miser  (petty  aster),  in  1853  on  West  Branch,  and  common 
on  Chesuncook  shore. 

Aster  longifolius  (willow-leaved  blue  aster),  1853,  Moosehead  and 
Chesuncook  shores. 

Aster  cordifolius  (heart-leaved  aster),  1853,  West  Branch. 

Aster  Tradescanti  (Tradescant's  aster),  1857.     A  narrow-leaved 
one  Chesuncook  shore,  1853. 
.   Aster,  longifolius  like,  with  small  flowers,  West  Branch,  1853. 

Aster  puniceus  (rough-stemmed  aster),  Pine  Stream. 

Diplopappus  umbettatus  (large  diplopappus  aster),  common  along 
river. 

Arctostaphylos  uva-ursi  (bear-berry),  Kineo,  &c.,  1857. 

Polygonum  cilinode  (fringe-jointed  false  buckwheat),  common. 

Bidens  cernua  (bur-marigold),  1853,  West  Branch. 

Ranunculus  acre's  (buttercups),  abundant  at  Smith's  dam,  Che- 
suncook, 1853. 


316  APPENDIX. 

Rubus  triflorus  (dwarf-raspberry),  low  grounds  and  swamps,  com- 
mon. 

Utricularia  vulgaris*  (greater  bladder- wort),  Pushaw. 

Iris  versicolor  (larger  blue-flag),  common  Moosehead,  West 
Branch,  Umbazookskus,  &c. 

Sparganium  (bur-reed ) . 

Calla  palustris  (water-arum),  in  bloom  July  27, 1857,  Mud  Pond 
Swamp. 

Lobelia  cardinalis  (cardinal-flower),  apparently  common,  but  out 
of  bloom  August,  1857. 

Cerastium  nutans  (clammy  wild  duckweed?). 

Gauhheria  procumbens  (checkerberry),  prevailing  everywhere  in 
woods  along  banks  of  rivers. 

Stellaria  media*  (common  chickweed),  Bangor. 

Chiogenes  hispidula  (creeping  snowberry),  very  common  in  woods. 

Cicuta  maculata  (water-hemlock). 

Oicuta  bulbifera  (bulb-bearing  water-hemlock),  Penobscot  and 
Chesuncook  shore,  1 853. 

Calium  trifidum  (small  bed-straw),  common. 

Galium  Aparine  (cleavers?),  Chesuncook,  1853. 

Galium,  one  kind  on  Pine  Stream,  1853. 

Trifolium  pratense  (red-clover),  on  carries,  &c. 

Actcea  spicata,  var.  alba  (white  cohosh),  Chesuncook  woods  1853, 
and  East  Branch  1857. 

Actcea  var.  rubra  (red  cohosh),  East  Branch  1857. 

Vaccinium  vitis-idcea  (cow-berry),  Ktaadn,  very  abundant. 

Cornus  Canadensis  (dwarf-cornel),  in  woods  Chesuncook  1853; 
just  ripe  at  Kineo  July  24,  1857,  common  ;  still  in  bloom,  Moose- 
head  carry  September  16,  1853. 

Medeola  Virginica  (Indian  cucumber-root),  West  Branch  and 
Chesuncook  woods. 

Dalibarda  repens  (Dalibarda),  Moosehead  carry  and  after,  com- 
mon. ( In  flower  still,  August  1,  1857. 

Taraxacum  dens-leonis  (common  dandelion),  Smith's  1853,  only 
there.  Is  it  not  foreign  ? 

Diervilla  trifida  (bush -honey suckle),  very  common. 

Rumex  hydrolapathum  ?  (great  water-dock),  in  1857;  noticed  it 
was  large  seeded  in  1853,  common. 

Rumex  crispus?  (curled-dock),  West  Branch  1853. 


APPENDIX.  .       317 

Apocynum  cannabinum  (Indian  hemp),  Kineo,  Bradford,  and  East 
Branch  1857,  at  Whetstone  Falls. 

Apocynum  androsoemifolium  (spreading  dogbane),  Kineo,  Bradford. 

Clintonia  borealis  (Clintonia),  all  over  woods;  fruit  just  ripening 
July  25,  1857. 

A  lemna  (duckweed),  Pushaw  1857. 

Elodea  Viryinica  (marsh  St.  JohnVwort),  Moosehead  1853. 

Epilobium  angustifolium  (great  willow-herb),  great  fields  on  burnt 
lands ;  some  white  at  Webster  Stream. 

Epilobium  coloratum  (purple-veined  willow-herb),  once  in  1857. 

Eupatorium  purpureum  (Joe-Pye-weed),  Heron,  Moosehead,  and 
Chesuncook  lake-shores,  common. 

Allium  (onion),  a  new  kind  to  me  in  bloom,  without  bulbs  above, 
on  rocks  near  Whetstone  Falls  ?  East  Branch. 

Halenia  deflexa  (spurred  gentian),  carries  on  East  Branch,  com- 
mon. . 

Geranium  Robertianum  (Herb  Robert). 

Solidago  lanceolata  (bushy  golden-rod),  very  common. 

Solidago,  one  of  the  three-ribbed,  in  both  years. 

Solidago  thyrsoidea  (large  mountain  golden-rod),  one  on  Webster 
Stream. 

Solidago  squarrosa  (large-spiked  golden-rod),  the  most  common 
on  East  Branch. 

Solidago  altissima  (rough  hairy  golden-rod),  not  uncommon  both 
years. 

Coptis  trifolia  (three-leaved  gold-thread). 

Smilax  herbacea  (carrion -flower),  not  uncommon  both  years. 

Spircea  tomentosa*  (hardback),  Bangor. 

Campanula  rotundifolia  (harebell),  cliffs  Kineo,  Grand  Lake,  &c. 

Hieracium  (hawk-weed),  not  uncommon. 

Veratrum  viride  (American  white  hellebore). 

Lycopus  Virginicus  (bugle-weed),  1857. 

Lycopus  Europceus  (water-horehound),  var.  sinuatus,  Heron  Lake 
shore. 

Chenopodium  album  (lamb's-quarters),  Smith's- 

Mentha  Canadensis  (wild  mint),  very  common. 

Galeopsis tetrahit  (common  hemp-nettle),  Olarmonlsle,  abundant, 
and  below,  in  prime  August  3,  1857. 

Houstonia  cceruka  (bluets),  now  Oldenlandia  (Gray,  2d  ed.),  1857. 


318  APPENDIX. 

Hydrocotyle  Americana  (marsh  pennywort),  common. 

Hypericum  ellipticum  (elliptical-leaved  St.  John's-wort),  com- 
mon. 

Hypericum  mutilum  (small  St.  John's-wort),  both  years,  common. 

Hypericum  Canadense  (Canadian  St.  John's-wort),  Moosehead 
Lake  and  Chesuncook  shores,  1853. 

Trientalis  Americana  (star-flower),  Pine  Stream,  1853. 

Lobelia  inftata  (Indian  tobacco). 

Spiranthes  cernuus  (ladies'  tresses),  Kineo  and  after. 

Nabalus  (rattlesnake  root),  1857 ;  altissimus  (tall  white  lettuce), 
Chesuncook  woods,  1853. 

Antennaria  margaritacea  (pearly  everlasting),  common,  Moose- 
head,  Smith's,  &c. 

Lilium  Canadense  (wild  yellow  lily),  very  common  and  large, 
West  and  East  Branch  ;  one  on  East  Branch,  1857,  with  strongly 
revolute  petals,  and  leaves  perfectly  smooth  beneath,  but  not  larger 
than  the  last,  and  apparently  only  a  variety. 

Linncea  borealis  (Linnsea),  almost  everywhere  in  woods. 

Lobelia  Dortmanna  (water-lobelia),  pond  in  Bucksport.. 

Lysimachia  ciliata  (hairy-stalked  loosestrife),  very  common,  Che- 
suncook shore  and  East  Branch. 

Lysimachia  stricta  (upright  loosestrife),  very  common. 

Microstylis  ophioglossoides  (adder's-mouth),  Kineo. 

Spiraea  salicifolia  (common  meadow-sweet),  common. 

Mimulus  ringens  (monkey -flower),  common,  lake-shores,  &c. 

Scutellaria  galericulata  (skullcap),  very  common. 

Scutellaria  lateriflora  (mad-dog  skullcap),  Heron  Lake,  1857, 
Chesuncook,  1853. 

Platanthera  psycodes  (small  purple-fringed  orchis),  very  common, 
East  Branch  and  Chesuncook,  1853. 

Platanthera  jimbriata  (large  purple-fringed  orchis),  very  common, 
West  Branch  and  Umbazookskus,  1857. 

Platanthera  orbiculata  (large  round-leaved  orchis),  very  common 
in  woods,  Moosehead  and  Chamberlain  carries,  Caucomgomoc,  &c. 

Amphicarpoza  monocea  (hog  peanut). 

Aralia  racemosa  (spikenard),  common,  Moosehead  carry,  Telos 
Lake,  &c.,  and  after;  out  about  August  1,  1857. 

Plantago  major  (common  plantain),  common  in  open  land  at 
Smith's  in  1853. 


APPENDIX.  319 

Pontederia  cordata*  (pickerel- weed),  only  near  Oldtown,  1857. 

Potamogeton  (pond-weed),  not  common. 

Potentilla  tridentata  (mountain  cinquefoil),  Kineo. 

Potentilla  Norvegica  (cinquefoil),  Heron  Lake  shore  and  Smith's. 

Polygonum  amphibium  (water-persicaria),  var.  aquaticum,  Second 
Lake. 

Polygonum  Persicaria  (lady's-thumb),  log-path  Chesuncook,  1853. 

Nuphar  advena  (yellow  pond-lily),  not  abundant. 

Nymphcea  odorata  (sweet  water-lily),  a  few  in  West  Branch,  1853. 

Polygonum  kydropiper  (smart- weed),  log-path,  Chesuncook. 

Pyrola  secunda  (one-sided  pyrola),  very  common,  Caucomgomoc. 

Pyrola  elliptica  (shin-leaf),  Caucomgomoc  River. 

Ranunculus  Flammula  (spearwort,  var.  reptans). 

Ranunculus  recurvatus  (hooked  crowfoot),  Umbazookskus  land- 
ing, &c. 

Typha  latifolia*  (common  cat-tail  or  reed-mace),  extremely 
abundant  between  Bangor  and  Portland. 

Sanicula  Marylandica  (black  snake-root),  Moosehead  carry  and 
after. 

Aralia  nudicaulis  (wild  sarsaparilla). 

Capsdla  bursa-pastoris  (shepherd's-purse),  Smith's,  1853. 

Prunella  vulgaris  (self-heal),  very  common  everywhere. 

Erechthites  hieracifolia  (fireweed),  1857,  and  Smith's  open  land, 
1853. 

Sarracenia  purpurea  (pitcher-plant),  Mud  Pond  swamp. 

Smilacina  bifolia  (false  Solomon's-seal),  1857,  and  Chesuncook 
woods,  1853. 

Smilacina  racemosa  (false  spikenard?),  Umbazookskus  carry 
(July  27,  1853). 

Veronica  scutellata  (marsh  speedwell). 

Spergula  arvensis  (corn  spurrey),  1857,  not  uncommon,  1853, 
Moosehead  and  Smith's. 

Fragaria  (strawberry),  1853  Smith's,  1857  Bucksport. 

Thalicirum  Cornuti  (meadow-rue),  very  common,  especially  along 
rivers,  tall,  and  conspicuously  in  bloom  in  July,  18"57. 

Cirsium  arvense  (Canada  thistle),  abundant  at  camps  and  high- 
,  way  sides  in  the  north  of  Maine. 

Cirsium  muticum  (swamp-thistle),  well  in  bloom  Webster  Stream, 
August  31. 


320  APPENDIX. 

Rumex  acetosella  (sheep-sorrel),  common  by  river  and  log-paths, 
as  Chesuncook  log-path. 

Impatiens  fulva  (spotted  touch-me-not). 

Tritium  ei-yihrocarpum  (painted  trillium),  common  West  Branch 
and  Moosehead  carry. 

Verbena  hastata  (blue  vervain). 

Clematis  Virginiana  (common  virgin's-bower),  common  on  river 
banks,  feathered  in  September,  1853,  in  bloom  July,  1857. 

Leucanthemum  vulgare  (white-weed). 

Sium  line/are  (water-parsnip),  1857,  and  Chesuncook  shore,  1853. 

Achillea  millefolium  (common  yarrow),  by  river  and  log-paths, 
and  Smith's. 

Desmodium  Canadense  (Canadian  tick- trefoil),  not  uncommon. 

Oxcdis  acetosella  (common  wood-sorrel),  still  out  July  25,  1853, 
at  Moosehead  carry  and  after. 

Oxalis  stricta  (yellow  wood-sorrel),  1853,  at  Smith's  and  his  wood- 
path. 

Liparis  liliifolia  (tway-blade),  Kineo,  Bradford. 

Uvularia  grandiflora  (large-flowered  bell  wort),  woods,  common. 

Uvularia  sessilifolia  (sessile-leaved  bellwort),  Chesuncook  woods, 
1853. 

In  all,  145. 

4.     OF  LOWER   ORDER. 

Scirpus  Eriophorum  (wool-grass),  very  common,  especially  on 
low  islands.  A  coarse  grass,  four  or  five  feet  high,  along  the  river. 

Phleum  pratense  (herd's-grass),  on  carries,  at  camps  and  clearings. 

Equisetum  sylvaticum  (sylvatic  horse-tail). 

Pteris  aquilina  (brake),  Kineo  and  after. 

Onoclea  sensibilis  (sensitive-fern),  very  common  along  the  river 
sides ;  some  on  the  gravelly  shore  of  Heron  Lake  Island. 

Polypodium  Dryopteris  (brittle  polypody). 

Woodsia  Ilvensis  (rusty  Woodsia),  Kineo. 

Lycopodium  lucidulum  (toothed  club-moss). 

Usnea  (a  parmeliaceous  lichen),  common  on  various  trees. 


%  APPENDIX.  .        321 

IV.     LIST   OF  BIEDS 

WHICH  I  SAW  IN  MAINE  BETWEEN  JULY  24  AND  AUGUST 
3,  1857. 

A  very  small  hawk  at  Great  Falls,  on  Webster  Stream. 

Halicetus  leucocephalus  (white-headed  or  bald-eagle),  at  Kagmuff, 
and  above  and  below  Hunt's,  and  on  pond  below  Mattawamkeag. 

Pandion  halicetus  f  fish-hawk  or  osprey),  heard,  also  seen  on  East 
Branch. 

Bubo  Virginianus  (cat-owl),  near  Camp  Island,  also  above  mouth 
of  Schoonis,  from  a  stump  back  and  forth,  also  near  Hunt's  on 
a  tree. 

Icterus  phceniceus  (red-winged  blackbird),  Umbazookskus  River. 

Corvus  Americanus  (American  crow),  a  few,  as  at  outlet  of  Grand 
Lake ;  a  peculiar  cawing. 

Fringilla  Canadensis  (tree-sparrow),  think  I  saw  one  on  Mount 
Kineo  July  24,  which  behaved  as  if  it  had  a  nest  there. 

Garrulus  cristatus  (blue-jay). 

Par  us  atricapillus  (chicadee),  a  few. 

Muscicapa  tyrannus  (king-bird). 

Muscicapa  Cooperii  (olive-sided  fly-catcher),  everywhere  a  pre- 
vailing bird. 

Muscicapa  virens  (wood  pewee),  Moosehead,  and  I  think  be- 
yond. 

Muscicapa  ruticilla  (American  redstart),  Moosehead. 

Vireo  olivaceus  (red-eyed  vireo),  everywhere  common. 

Turdus  migratorius  (red-breasted  robin),  some  everywhere. 

Turdus  melodus  (wood- thrush),  common  in  all  the  woods. 

Turdus  Wilsonii  (Wilson's  thrush),  Moosehead  and  beyond. 

Turdus  aurocapillus  (golden-crowned  thrush  or  oven-bird),  Moose- 
head. 

Fringilla  albicollis  (white-throated  sparrow),  Kineo  and  after,  ap- 
parently nesting ;  the  prevailing  bird  early  and  late. 

Fringilla  melodia  (song-sparrow),  at  Moosehead  or  beyond. 

Sylvia  pinus  (pine  warbler),  one  part  of  voyage. 

Muscicapa  acadica  (small  pewee,,  common. 

Trichas  Marylandica  (Maryland  yellow-throat),  everywhere. 

Coccyzus  Americanus?  (yellow-billed  cuckoo),  common. 
14*  U 


322  APPENDIX. 

Picus  erythrocephalus  (red-headed  woodpecker),  heard  and  saw ; 
and  good  to  eat. 

Sitta  Carolinensis  ?  (white-breasted  American  nuthatch),  heard. 

Alcedo  alcyon  (belted  kingfisher),  very  common. 

Caprimulgus  Americanus  (night-hawk). 

Tetrao  umbellus  (partridge),  Moosehead  carry,  &c. 

Tetrao  cupido?  (pinnated  grouse),  Webster  Stream. 

Ardea  coerulea  (blue  heron),  lower  part  of  Penobscot. 

Totanus  macularius  (spotted  sandpiper  or  peetweet),  everywhere. 

Larus  argentatus?  (herring-gull),  Heron  Lake  on  rocks,  and 
Chamberlain.  Smaller  gull  on  Second  Lake. 

Anas  obscura  (dusky  or  black  duck),  once  in  East  Branch. 

Anas  sponsa  (summer  or  wood  duck),  everywhere. 

Fuligula  albicola  (spirit  duck  or  dipper),  common. 

Colymbus  glacialis  (great  Northern  diver  or  loon),  in  all  the  lakes. 
A  swallow ;  the  night-warbler  ?  once  or  twice. 

Mergus  Merganser  (buff-breasted  merganser  or  sheldrake),  com- 
mon on  lakes  and  rivers. 


V.     QUADRUPEDS. 

A  bat  on  West  Branch;  beaver  skull  at  Grand  Lake;  Mr. 
Thatcher  ate  beaver  with  moose  on  the  Caucomgomoc.  A  musk- 
rat  on  the  last  stream  ;  the  red  squirrel  is  common  in  the  depths 
of  the  woods;  a  dead  porcupine  on  Chamberlain  road;  a  cow 
moose  and  tracks  of  calf;  skin  of  a  bear,  just  killed. 


VI.     OUTFIT   FOR  AN  EXCURSION. 

The  following  will  be  a  good  outfit  for  one  who  wishes  to  make 
an  excursion  of  twelve  days  into  the  Maine  woods  in  July,  with  a 
companion,  and  one  Indian  for  the  same  purposes  that  I  did. 

Wear,  —  a  check  shirt,  stout  old  shoes,  thick  socks,  a  neck  rib- 
bon, thick  waistcoat,  thick  pants,  old  Kossuth  hat,  a  linen  sack. 

Carry,  —  in  an  India-rubber  knapsack,  with  a  large  flap,  two 


APPENDIX.  323 

shirts  (check),  one  pair  thick  socks,  one  pair  drawers,  one  flannel 
shirt,  two  pocket-handkerchiefs,  a  light  India-rubber  coat  or  a  thick 
woollen  one,  two  bosoms  and  collars  to  go  and  come  with,  one 
napkin,  pins,  needles,  thread,  one  blanket,  best  gray,  seven  feet 
long. 

Tent,  —  six  by  seven  feet,  and  four  feet  high  in  middle,  will  do ; 
veil  and  gloves  and  insect-wash,  or,  better,  mosquito-bars  to  cover 
all  at  night ;  best  pocket-map,  and  perhaps  description  of  the  route ; 
compass ;  plant-book  and  red  blotting-paper ;  paper  and  stamps, 
botany,  small  pocket  spy-glass  for  birds,  pocket  microscope,  tape- 
measure,  insect-boxes. 

Axe,  full  size  if  possible,  jackknife,  fish-lines,  two  only  apiece, 
with  a  few  hooks  and  corks  ready,  and  with  pork  for  bait  in  a 
packet,  rigged ;  matches  (some  also  in  a  small  vial  in  the  waist- 
coat pocket) ;  soap,  two  pieces ;  large  knife  and  iron  spoon  (for 
all) ;  three  or  four  old  newspapers,  much  twine,  and  several  rags 
for  dishcloths ;  twenty  feet  of  strong  cord,  four-quart  tin  pail  for 
kettle,  two  tin  dippers,  three  tin  plates,  a  fry-pan. 

Provisions.  —  Soft  hardbread,  twenty-eight  pounds  ;  pork,  six- 
teen pounds;  sugar,  twelve  pounds;  one  pound  black  tea  or  three 
pounds  coffee,  one  box  or  a  pint  of  salt,  one  quart  Indian  meal,  to 
fry  fish  in ;  six  lemons,  good  to  correct  the  pork  and  warm  water ; 
perhaps  two  or  three  pounds  of  rice,  for  variety.  You  will  prob- 
ably get  some  berries,  fish,  &c.,  beside. 

A  gun  is  not  worth  the  carriage,  unless  you  go  as  hunters.  The 
pork  should  be  in  an  open  keg,  sawed  to  fit ;  the  sugar,  tea  or  cof- 
fee, meal,  salt,  &c.,  should  be  put  in  separate  water-tight  India- 
rubber  bags,  tied  with  a  leather  string ;  and  all  the  provisions,  and 
part  of  the  rest  of  the  baggage,  put  into  two  large  India-rubber 
bags,  which  have  been  proved  to  be  water-tight  and  durable.  Ex- 
pense of  preceding  outfit  is  twenty-four  dollars. 

An  Indian  may  be  hired  for  about  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  per 
day,  and  perhaps  fifty  cents  a  week  for  his  canoe  (this  depends  on 
the  demand).  The  canoe  should  be  a  strong  and  tight  one.  This 
expense  will  be  nineteen  dollars. 

Such  an  excursion  need  not  cost  more  than  twenty-five  dollars 
apiece,  starting  at  the  foot  of  Moosehead,  if  you  already  possess 
or  can  borrow  a  reasonable  part  of  the  outfit.  If  yon  take  an  In- 
dian and  canoe  at  Oldtown,  it  will  cost  seven  or  eight  dollars  more 
to  transport  them  to  the  lake. 


324  APPENDIX. 

VII.     A  LIST   OF  INDIAN  WORDS. 

1.  Katadn,  said  to  mean  Highest  Land,  Rale  puts  for  Mt.  Pema- 
dene ;  for  Grai,  pierre  a  aiguiser,  Kitadaiigan.     (v.  Potter.) 

Mattawamkeag,  place  where  two  rivers  meet.    (Indian  of  carry.) 
(v.  Williamson's  History  of  Maine,  and  Willis.) 

Molunkus. 

Ebeeme,  rock. 

Noliseemack ;  other  name,  Shad  Pond. 

Kecunnilessu,  chicadee. 

Nipsquecohossus,  woodcock. 

Skuscumonsuk,  kingfisher.  Has  it  not  the  pi.  termination 
uk  here,  or  suk  ?  \.  joe> 

Wassus,  bear,  aouessous.    Rale. 

Lunxus,  Indian-devil. 

Upahsis,  mountain-ash. 

Moose,  (is  it  called,  or  does  it  mean,  wood-eater?)  mous,  Rale. 

Katahdinauguoh,  said  to  mean  mountains  about  Ktaadn. 

Ebemena,  tree-cranberry.    Ibibimin,  nar,  red,  bad  fruit.  )  T 
Rale. 

Wighiggin,  a  bill  or  writing,  aouixigan,  "  Litre,  lettre,  i  Il^'n 
peinture,  ceinture."    Rale.  *  carry. 

Sebamook,  Large-bay  Lake,  Peqouasebem ;  add  ar  for  plu- 
ral, lac  or  etang.  Rale.  Ouaiirinaugamek,  anse  dans  un 
lac.  Rale.  Mspame,  large  water.  Polis.  J 

Sebago  and  Sebec,  large  open  water. 

Chesuncook,  place  where  many  streams  empty  in.     (v. "]  « 
Willis  and  Potter.) 

Caucomgomoc,  Gull  Lake.    ( Caucomgomoc,  the  lake ;  can-  \  Q 
comgomoc-took,  the  river,  Polis.)  j  ^ 


Kenduskieg,  Little  Eel  River,     (v.  Willis.)  Nicholai. 

Penobscot,  Rocky  River.     Puapeskou,  stone.      (Rale  v.  i  In(J'n 
Springer.)  '  carry. 

Umbazookskus,  meadow  stream.     (Much-meadow  river, 
Polis.) 

Mittinocket,  place  of  Islands. 

Souneunk,  that  runs  between  Mountains. 

Aboljacarmegus,  Smooth-ledge  Falls  and  Dead-water. 


APPENDIX.  .         325 

Aboljacarmeguscook,  the  river  there. 

Muskiticook,  Dead  Stream.  (Indian  of  cany.)  Meskikou,  or 
Meskikouikou,  a  place  where  there  is  grass.  (Rale.)  Musk&ticook, 
Dead  water.  (Polis.) 

Mattahumkeag,  Sand-creek  Pond.  )  Nicho- 

Piscataquis,  branch  of  a  river.  ;    lai- 

Shecorways,  sheldrakes.  -\ 

Naramekechus,  peetweet.  >  Polis. 

Medawisla,  loon.  ) 

Orignal,  Moosehead  Lake.     (Montresor.) 

Chor-chor-gue,  usnea. 

Adelungquamooktum,  wood-thrush. 

Bematruichtik,  high  land  generally.  (Mi.  Pemadent,  [.Polis. 
Rale.) 

Maquoxigil,  bark  of  red  osier,  Indian  tobacco. 

Kineo,  flint  (Williamson;  old  Indian  hunter).     (Hodge/ 

Artoosoqu',  phosphorescence. 

Subekoondark,  white  spruce. 

Skusk,  black  spruce. 

Beskabekuk,  the  "  Lobster  Lake  "  of  maps. 

Beskabekuk  shishtook,  the  dead  water  below  the  island. 

Paytaytequick,  Burnt-Ground  Stream,  what  Joe  called  }•  Polls. 
Ragmuff. 

Nonlangyis,  the  name  of  a  dead-water  between  the  last 
and  Pine  Stream. 

Karsaootuk,  Black  River  (or  Pine  Stream).  Mkazeou- 
ighen,  black.  Rale. 

Michigan,  fimus.  Polis  applied  it  to  a  sucker,  or  a  poor, 
good-for-nothing  fish.  Fiante  (?)  mitsegan,  Rale.  (Picker- 
ing puts  the  ?  after  the  first  word.) 

Cowosnebagosar,  Chiogenes  hispidula,  means,  grows  where 
trees  have  rotted. 

Pockadunkquaywayle,  echo.    Pagadaukoueou€rr€,    Rale. 

Bororquasis,  moose-fly. 

Nerlumskeechtcook  (or  quoik?),  (or  skeetcook],  Dead  water, 
and  applied  to  the  mountains  near. 

Apmoojeuegamook,  lake  that  is  crossed. 

Allegash,  hemlock-bark,     (v.  Willis.) 

Paytaywecongomec,  Burnt- Ground  Lake,  Telos. 


326  APPENDIX. 

Madunkehunk,  Height-of-land  Stream  (Webster  Stream). 

Madunkehunk-gamooc,  Height-of-land  Lake. 

Matungamooc,  Grand  Lake. 

Uncardnerheese,  Trout  Stream. 

Wassataquoik  (or  -cook),  Salmon  River,  East  Branch, 
(v.  Willis.) 

Pemoymenuk,  Amelanchier  berries,  "  Pemouaimin,  nak, 
a  black  fruit.    Rale."     Has  it  not  here  the  plural  end-  ' 
ing? 

Sheepnoc,  Lilium  Canadense  bulbs.     "  Sipen,  nak,  white, 
larger  than  penak."    Rale. 

Paytgumkiss,  Petticoat  (where  a  small  river  comes  into 
the  Penobscot  below  Nickatow). 

Burntibus,  a  lake-like  reach  in  the  Penobscot. 

Passadumkeag,  "  where  the  water  falls  into  the  Penobscot  above 
the  falls."  (Williamson.)  Pausidaukioui  is,  aw  dessus  de  la  mon- 
tagne.  Rale. 

Olarmon,  or  larmon,  (Polis)  red  paint.  "  Vermilion,  paint, 
Ouramaii"  Rale. 

Sunkhaze,  "  See  canoe  come  out;  ho,  see  'em  stream."  (Polis.) 
The  mouth  of  a  river,  according  to  Rale,  is  Saughedetegoue.  The 
place  where  one  stream  empties  into  another,  thus  £ ,  is  sauktaiioui. 
(v.  Willis.) 

Tomhegan  Br.  (at  Moosehead).     "Hatchet,  temahigan."    Rale. 

Nickatow,  "  Nicketaoutegue,  or  Niketoutegoue,  riviere  qui  fourche." 
Rale. 

2.  From  WILLIAM  WILLIS,  on  the  Language  of  the  Abnaquies. 
Maine  Hist,  Coll.,  Vol.  IV. 

Abalajako-megus  (river  near  Ktaadn). 

Aitteon  (name  of  a  pond  and  sachem). 

Apmogenegamook  (name  of  a  lake). 

Allagash  (a  bark  camp).  Sockbasin,  a  Penobscot,  told  him, 
"  The  Indians  gave  this  name  to  the  lake  from  the  fact  of  their 
keeping  a  hunting-camp  there." 

Bamonewengamock,  head  of  Allagash,  Cross  Lake.  (Sock- 
basin.) 

Chesuncook,  Big  Lake.     (Sockbasin.) 


APPENDIX.  327 

Caucongamock  (a lake). 

Ebeeme,  mountains  that  have  plums  on  them.    (Sockbasin.) 

Ktaadn.  Sockbasin  pronounces  this  Ka-tah-din,  and  said  it 
meant  "large  mountain  or  large  thing." 

Kenduskeag  (the  place  of  Eels). 

Kineo  (flint),  mountain  on  the  border,  &c. 

Metawamkeag,  a  river  with  a  smooth  gravelly  bottom.  (Sock- 
basin.) 

MetanawcooJc. 

Millinoket,  a  lake  with  many  islands  in  it.     (Sockbasin.) 

Matakeunk  (river). 

Molunkus  (river). 

Nicketow,  Neccotoh,  where  two  streams  meet  ("Forks  of  the 
Penobscot"). 

Negas  (Indian  village  on  the  Kenduskeag). 

Orignal  (Montresor's  name  for  Moosehead  Lake). 

Ponguongamook,  Allagash,  name  of  a  Mohawk  Indian  killed 
there.  (Sockbasin.) 

Penobscot,  Penobskeag,  French  Pentagoet,  &c. 

Pougohwaken  (Heron  Lake). 

Pemadumcook  (lake). 

Passadumkeag,  where  water  goes  into  the  river  above  falls. 
(Williamson.) 

Ripogenus  (river). 

Sunkhaze  (river),  Dead  water. 

Souneunk, 

Seboomook.  Sockbasin  says  this  word  means  "  the  shape  of  a 
Moose's  head,  and  was  given  to  the  lake,"  &c.  Howard  says 
differently. 

Seboois,  a  brook,  a  small  river.     (Sockbasin.) 

Sebec  (river). 

Sebago  (great  water). 

Telos  (lake). 

Tdasiuis  (lake). 

Umbagog  (lake),  doubled  up;  so  called  from  its  form.  (Sock- 
basin.) 

Umbazookskus  (lake). 

Wassatiquoik,  a  mountain  river.     (Sockbasin.) 


328  APPENDIX. 

Judge  C.  E.  Potter  of  Manchester,  New  Hampshire,  adds  in 
November,  1855  :  — 

"  Chesuncook.  This  is  formed  from  Chesunk,  or  SchunJc  (a  goose), 
and  Auke  (a  place),  and  means  '  The  Goose  Place.'  Chesunk,  or 
Schunk,  is  the  sound  nrnde  by  the  wild  geese  when  flying." 

Ktaadn.  This  is  doubtless  a  corruption  of  Kees  (high),  and 
Auke  (a  place). 

Penobscot,  Penapse  (stone,  rock-place),  and  Auke  (place). 

Suncook,  Goose-place,  Schunk-auke. 

The  Judge  says  that  schoot  means  to  rush,  and  hence  schoodic 
from  this  and  auke  (a  place  where  water  rushes),  and  that  schoon 
means  the  same ;  and  that  the  Marblehead  people  and  others  have 
derived  the  words  scoon  and  scoot  from  the  Indians,  and  hence 
schooner;  refers  to  a  Mr.  Chute. 


THE  END. 


Cambridge  :  Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


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